Duplicity
by Divamercury
Summary: 4th in my series. Sara investigates a serial murder case, thinking it to be ordinary, but of course nothing is in the WB universe. When the killer targets Sara and her friends, will they survive to tell the tale? And will Sara know who she can trust?
1. Default Chapter

Duplicity

By Divamercury

I really hope people like this story as much as the others in my series. This comes about 6 weeks or so after Danger Zone ends. Please, please review! 

Chapter 1

I pulled up to the precinct on my Buell, savoring the feeling of normalcy. After being terrorized by a group of hired killers and getting knocked into a coma that I was stuck in for three weeks, my first normal day at the department became a huge relief. Unfortunately it would prove to be anything but normal and would only get stranger. 

In the hallway on my way to my office I ran into a uniform I knew named Jones. He grinned when he spotted me. 

"Hey, Pez! How you doing? It's good to see you upright again," Jones said.

"Good to be upright again. Has the mail run yet?"

"Yep. I think you got a package. And the new Captain wants to see you. I think he tried to call you but he didn't get an answer."

"Thanks, man. My cell's on the blink, so that's probably why he couldn't get me." 

I continued into the department and reached my office. Jake's name had been taken off the door and had been replaced by a sign with my new partner's name, I noticed as I opened it. No wonder: Jake was off being knighted or somethingactually he was being subjected to whatever the FBI equivalent was for that procedure, because of the demolition of the Bulls. I almost envied himalmost. I'd had enough attention to last me the rest of my life and I wasn't itching for more. 

I dropped my gear in a chair in the corner of my office and then glanced at my desk. The package Jones had referred to was there waiting for me to open it. Before I could sit down and do so, however, my new rookie partner Marcus Connor arrived. 

"You're late, Connor," I said.

"Sorry, Pez. Traffic tie-up."

"I didn't have any problems."

"You ride a motorcycle. Most of the rest of us poor, unfortunate humans are stuck with four-wheeled vehicles."

"Thanks for the lesson," I said. "I heard Laredo wants to see us. Now that we're both in the buildinglet's go."

Captain Chris Laredo was sitting at his desk and looked up when we came in.

"Ah, Pezzini, Connor. Nice of you to finally show up."

"Sorry, sir. We seem to have had some problems with traffic," I said. Connor sent me a grateful look. 

"Well, at any rate, now that you're here, I just got a call from Alcott. They found a body in a Dumpster in an alley on Cumberland St. downtown. We've been trying to get hold of you for quite some time."

"We're on it, sir." 

"Dismissed."

Connor and I left Laredo's office and headed back to our own. I got my gear and we headed out, piling into Marc's car. 

"So, why didn't you know about this?"

"My cell's on the blink. I'm going to have to go without it today. Otherwise we wouldn't have had this problem."

"What are we expecting?" Marc asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"A dead person in a Dumpster, from what I can guess." Rookies.

"That's it? That's all we have to go on?"

"That's all for now."

"You don't seem worried."

"Sure I don't. Looks can be deceiving, Connor. I'm actually pretty apprehensive."

"Could have fooled me. How do you do that?"

"Practice. One of these days you'll have it down. Do you play poker?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Think of it like using your poker face. That's pretty much it. We're here," I said. "That's Cumberland St."

Connor pulled over and parked. I made my way over to Alcott, another uniform buddy of mine who worked the forensic circuit and was the one who placed the call.

"What's going on here? Heard you found a body."

"Yeah. Just want to warn you: it's not pretty, Pez."

"It's never pretty, Al. I'd die of shock if there actually was one that looked nice."

"So Laredo didn't tell you the condition of the body?"

"No" I trailed off. Al fidgeted and tried not to look at me. "Okay, spill, Al. I know it's bad just from watching you." 

"There's no head."

"What?"

"The body has no head."

"As in decapitated, that kind of there's no head'?"

"Yeah."

"Spectacular. Male or female?"

"It's a woman, but it'll take us a lot more time to identify her without her head. We won't be able to use dental records"

"Great."

Connor and I looked at the body and the poor guy turned bright green. The head had been severed from the body in a jagged fashion, not in one quick, clean slice. We wandered around the crime scene to look for clues and to let Connor settle his stomach but came up with nothing. By the time we got back to the precinct I was in a terrible mood. We went back into our office and I remembered the package that was on my desk that I hadn't opened. I sat down and looked at the box. It looked like any ordinary package, wrapped in brown paper and clearly addressed to me, with a card taped to the side. Finding that odd, I pulled it off the plain white envelope. 

"What's that, Pez?" Connor asked.

"A package I got this morning. Never got a chance to open it." I ripped open the white envelope and pulled out a regular sheet of computer paper. I unfolded it and read the typed message: 

Just thought I'd be fair and give you a head's up, Detective. Have fun.

The message wasn't signed. I handed it to Connor who read it and raised an eyebrow. "What the hell?" he asked.

"We'll see." 

After being silent all morning, the Witchblade heated up under my long-sleeved shirt as my hand got nearer to the box, warning me about something. No visions accompanied it, but a feeling of dread washed over me as I slit the box with a letter opener. A familiar stench assailed my nostrils as I opened the flaps and peered inside. Peeling back some tissue paper made the stench stronger and I looked at the contents. 

The Witchblade then chose that opportunity to show me what had happened, a close-up of a human hand (probably a man's from the size) cutting through flesh with a sharp object, a knife or a razorblade of some kind. The amount of blood was unbelievable, and I snapped out of the vision and found myself face to face witha face. 

There was a head staring up at me from inside the box.

"**_HOLY SHIT!_**" I screamed, pushing my chair back from the desk. Connor jumped about a mile into the air. It was a miracle he didn't get stuck in the ceiling.

"Pez! Jesus Christ! What is it? What's wrong?"

"Lookthe box oh, my God" I was hyperventilating and it was amazing that I had gotten that much out.

Connor came around to my desk and carefully peered into the box.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, although substantially softer than mine was. "There's a head in that box!"

"Inoticed," I said, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Thanks a lot,' I thought, directing that at the Witchblade. I just love it when you show me that kind of stuff.'

Jones stuck his head in the door. "Dude, what the hell is going on here?"

"Get the Captain in here right nowand if you want to know what's going on, come see for yourself!" Connor exclaimed. 

Jones vanished and reappeared with Laredo in tow a few seconds later.

"Detective, what is the problem in here?" Laredo inquired.

"Sir, if you just look in this box, there will be no doubt as to what the problem is," I said, having recovered. 

Laredo and Jones were overcome with curiosity and couldn't resist looking into the box. Both men jumped back after looking, although without comment. The contents of the box were shocking, even to us homicide cops. I could barely believe it myself.


	2. Chapter 2

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Well, I have returned. I could have sworn that I had posted this before but the site decided not to accept it the first time around. Oh, well. *sighs heavily* But here is Chapter 2, which seems to have been anxiously anticipated. Thanks so much for all your support, all of you, and special thanks to Pixie-Dust and Spin for your help and being awesome friends! I love you all!

~DM

Chapter 2

It seemed to be a woman's head from the look of the long blonde hair and feminine features, even though its left eye was missing and there was a deep gash across the right cheek that went down to the bone. It was pretty mutilated and I swallowed a wave of nausea at the sight and stench. I looked at the side of the box, noticing that the blood was staining the bottom and beginning to seep through the box itself and the brown paper covering it.

Laredo finally regained his voice. "SoI understand your reaction, Detective."

"Yeah, well, I think we found the head belonging to that body from the Cumberland St. alley. Send this to Vicki Po in the morgue right away."

Laredo nodded and waved Jones back over to the desk. Unfortunately he was the one that had to carry the box out of the office. I winced as I watched it drip on the floor as he walked.

"Well, at least we found the head," Connor said, following Jones with his eyes and turning a bit green again.

"Yeahjust wonder why the killer found me. And why he sent it directly to me."

The day went steadily downhill from there. Connor asked a myriad of foolish questions about the box that I couldn't answer and Jones swung by my office, the bearer of bad news.

"What's up, Jones? Any news?"

"Sorry to be the one to tell you, Pez, but they don't know what caused the girl's death yet, or even who she is."

"What do you mean, they don't know yet?" I asked.

"Vicki said that the tests wouldn't come in until tomorrow at the soonest but it could take up to three days," Jones replied.

"Spectacular," I groaned, and Jones left. 

I spent the day alternating going over paperwork (which I loathe) and staring at the note that had accompanied the box. The killer had maliciously made an awful pun using the word "head," but that was all I could figure out. I sighed, my face in my hands, and then glanced at my watch. I got out of my chair.

"Where're you going, Pez?" Connor inquired.

"To see Laredo," I replied, and continued to Laredo's office. It was 5:30 and I was originally scheduled to stay until 8:00. But I knew that wasn't going to work. Not today. My brain couldn't settle down. I pounded on the door once before opening the door anyway. 

"Sir, could I take the rest of the day off?"

He put down the file he was reading and sighed. "Come in, Pezzini."

"Too late," I said. I was already in.

"Well, I suppose so, to answer your question. But don't get used to it, Pezzini. You had a pretty rough day, especially it being your first day back after so long, and that's the only reason I'm letting you off."

Finally a Captain with senseand who pronounced my name correctly. 

"Thank you, sir," I said, and went back to my office to get my gear.

"Skipping out on me, Pez?" Connor asked. Apparently my grin left me looking like the cat that ate the canary.

"Not exactly. Well, I don't see it that way. Laredo said I could have the rest of the day off."

"After you asked."

"Well, how else would he have known what I wanted?" I said with a wink. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow morning bright and early. Don't miss me too much." I picked up my gear and prepared to leave.

"Hey, uhPez?" Connor asked as I was almost out the door.

I whirled around and looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Are you free tonight after work?" The words left him in a rush.

Connor was trying to ask me out? How cute. And he actually wasn't that bad looking, with those baby blue eyes and the sandy brown hair, but I couldn't forget he was my partnerand that I had someone waiting for me at home. 

"Sorry, Connor. I'm booked," I said, grinning apologetically. "See you tomorrow." I really hated to shut him down like that, but I definitely had a good reasonone that looked really great in a trench coat.

In the months since the ordeal with the Speakers, Ian and I had gotten a lot closer. He refused to return to Irons when the bastard caved in and came close to begging and shyly asked to stay with me. I couldn't—wouldn't—turn him down, especially after I had finally come to terms with how I felt about himand after he gave me one of his famous looks. 

Ian turned out to be a great person to live with. He was extremely neat, almost obsessively so, and kept the place up to standards nicer than they had been when I first bought it. He was also great in the kitchen, so much so that his cooking prowess amazed me. Not to mention what went on after dinner—which was way better than dessert

When I got back to my building, I was exhausted. I trudged wearily up the stairs to my apartment and dropped my gear by the door. 

"Ian, you here?" I wasn't in the mood for any surprises and I had no idea if my domesticated stalker was home or not.

"I am," Ian called from the kitchen. "You're home early." 

"Yeah. I wheedled my way into getting the rest of the day off." I smiled weakly as he came out, obviously thrilled that I was home. It was so great seeing him so at ease, wearing a burgundy turtleneck sweater and blue jeans (not to mention a huge smile) and deviating from his previously ingrained black-on-black ensemble. In fact, the only pieces of black clothing he had kept were his trusty overcoat and a couple of pairs of socks.

Ian had apparently been in a stellar mood before I arrived, but his grin melted to a look of concern in an instant when he saw my face.

"What's wrong, Sara? Tough first day back?"

"The worst," I said, collapsing on the sofa. "It was hell." 

Ian immediately came over and sat beside me.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Psychopath killer on the loose. We found the body in a Dumpster downtown, but it didn't have a head."

"Hmm," Ian said thoughtfully. 

"And it gets worse. The killer sent me a package and guess what was in it."

"The head?"

"Yep. What else? There was so much blood in the bottom of the box that it dripped when one of the uniforms took it down to Vicki. It seeped out through the box and the paper it was wrapped in. We don't know the identity of the woman yet and it could take up to three days. All that's on top of the fact that I have a new rookie partner, undoubtedly a rookie and not an undercover fed, who is starting to drive me crazy andhe tried to ask me out."

"Naturally you declined."

"Naturally. He's my partner, for crying out loud. Plus, I have you to come home to, and what sane woman would pass that up?"

"Exactly," he said, embracing me. 

"Well, now, someone's being awfully modest," I remarked.

Ian grinned. "Everything will work out, Sara. It usually does. Now, I think dinner's ready, so shall we?" he asked, releasing me and offering his arm. I grinned and accepted it, looking forward to a great meal.

After we finished eating, I helped him clean up. I loaded the dishwasher without saying anything, and our meal had been pretty subdued as well. 

"You're awfully quiet, Sara."

"Just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Thinking about that case

"Of course. I just can't get my mind off of it. Every time I blink or close my eyes all I can see is that girl's facewhich is definitely not a good thing considering the shape it was in when I saw it."

"Sara, please, just relax. There's no point in worrying yourself to death over something you can't change—or even fix, for that matter—right now. You really need to try and think about something else."

By this time we had finished our clean-up and Ian sat down on the couch, obviously worried about me. Grinning wickedly, I crossed the room and straddled him, taking him by surprise.

"Well, I believe there is something that will take my mind off of all of this" 

Ian's eyes got darker as a grin as wicked as mine spread across his face, and something told me that I was not going to be in for a "relaxing" night after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Duplicity

By Divamercury

So sorry for the long delay, but what with vacations and a killer case of writer's block (which isn't fully cured yet but is on the road to recovery), I didn't have much to write. Hopefully it's relatively good. Hope you enjoy and don't forget to review, whatever you do. Love you guys!

~DM

Chapter 3

As I had predicted, my night with Ian was far from restful, and yet I awoke feeling—surprisingly—rather relaxed. For the time being, the weight of the case I was working on had lifted off of my shoulders and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I feltfree. I grinned at Ian's unconscious form; he apparently had accomplished his goal last night. 

I propped myself up on one elbow and watched him sleep. He seemed so innocent, angelic even. You never would have been able to guess, looking at him at that moment, that he was—or used to be— one of the best assassins on the planet. 

Even now, after we had stepped up our relationship, it was rare for me to catch him in moments like this. He was so determined to protect me and to always be alert and ready for danger. So when I actually did have the privilege of watching him sleep, I made sure to enjoy it, not knowing when the chance would come again.

I gently brushed back a lock of his long, wavy dark hair from his face. He stirred slightly but didn't wake, although a slow smile of recognition spread across his face. 

Yeah, it's me, babe,' I thought, grinning again. Not surprising that you're wiped out after all we were up to. Yeah, "restful" would definitely be the worst word to use to describe last night.' 

I glanced across the room at my alarm clock and groaned softly. If I didn't get out of bed immediately, I would be late for work and Laredo would hardly be lenient after giving me plenty of time off. I tried to get up but Ian's arms still held me securely and pulled me back down. He was awake nowor something close to it, at least.

"Good morning, my love," he said, smiling sleepily, his eyes still at half-mast. 

God, he was sexy when he looked at me like that.

"Good morning to you, too. Now, please let go of me, Ian. I've got to get to work. And don't even think about giving me one of those looks," I said, getting as close to begging as I ever got.

"What looks?"

"You know. The pitiful, lost-puppy looks. I hate it when you do. Now come on. I've got to go."

He complied but pouted, looking exactly like an unhappy ten-year-old. I couldn't help laughing. 

"Now, that will get you absolutely nowhere." I left him in bed and went to take a shower.

I showered off quickly and dressed, heading out to the main room of my apartment. Ian had dressed in my absence and I picked up my gear. "So, what are you planning to do today?" I asked him. 

"I'm probably going to plunge into the unemployment office. See if I can find a job that makes use of my skills in a legal way. Not sure what occupation could use me, though," he replied with a smile.

I smiled. He was determined not to be a freeloader. "Have you thought about teaching martial arts? You know every possible way to defend yourself, that's for sure."

He tilted his head to one side, thinking it over. "That's a good idea. I'll see if I can find an opening in that field."

We walked out together. "Have a good day," he said.

"Anything will be better than yesterday."

"If you need anything, call me."

"I will. Everything should be fine today. Just hope that Vicki has the results on the victim. See you tonight."

"Until then, my love," he said, and he kissed me goodbye. I climbed on my Buell and, after a final wave, set out to face the horrors of early morning traffic. 

I arrived just a few minutes late, having made up for some time in my apartment with some rather risky moves on my bike. Nonetheless I got there in one piece. Connor was in our office, his face buried in a folder.

"Hey, Pez," he said when he looked up. "Vicki asked us to go talk to her when you got here. Says she got the results back on our latest victim."

"Thank God. I was afraid it would take weeks to get them at the rate we were going. Come on, I want to get this casestarted." We left our office and headed for the morgue, and I was so anxious to find out what was going on that the thought of coffee completely slipped my mind.

"So, what's going on, Vic?" I asked as we entered the morgue.

"Oh, good, Pez, Connor, you're finally here."

"Someone was late," Connor said pointedly. 

"Oh, don't give me that. It's not like you're Mr. Punctuality," I retorted.

"Well, I think it's time to get back to the point nowand you're not going to like it."

"When do we ever? That won't stop us from beating it out of you if you don't spill," I said.

"Okay, okay, relax. The victim's name was Maria Thompson, we gathered from dental records. She was a CPA that worked freelance but was currently employed for a law firm downtown that seemed to be having some tax trouble."

I winced at the name Maria. It brought back some painful memories of my murdered best friend by the same name.

"Evidently the killer was really pissed off at her for some reason or another," Vicki continued, beckoning us to the examining table. 

Connor and I approached. Ms. Thompson was lying on the table, her skin so pale it was almost transparent. Vicki had placed the head with its body and for the sake of the stomachs of those around her, she had draped a cloth over the separation between head and neck.

"Why do you say that, Vic?" 

"There were some deep indentations in her wrists here—" she said, showing them to us by holding up one of the body's wrists, "—which says to me that her killer restrained her and she struggled, trying to break free. Looks like some kind of rope or cord because of the burns. There's some like it on her ankles, too."

"What do you think the cause of death was?" Connor wanted to know. "So far this isn't the weirdest murder case ever reported."

"I wasn't finished, yet, Connor," Vicki said, glaring at him and then looking at me. Her look so clearly said "Rookie" that I could barely stifle a laugh.

"What? What aren't you saying, Vic?" Connor asked, frowning. "And what's with the head?"

"That's the thing. This woman wasn't killed before her head was cut off, like most of the other headless corpses I've had to deal with."

"Meaning" Connor made the "move-it-along" motion.

"Meaning—"

"—Decapitation was the cause of death," I interrupted softly.

"Correct as usual, King Friday," Vicki quipped, then became serious again. "I'd say he used some kind of knife or blade—probably a razorblade— and was very persistent. Christ! I mean, the killer severed the spinal cord, all the nerves, the muscles, everything, but not all at oncejust a little at a time," she continued in the solemn tone that only medical examiners can use convincingly.

"Why do you think it was a he?" Connor inquired.

"Well, even with the amount of cuts used, there was clearly strength in them. I don't think a woman could do something like thisbut I guess anything's possible. Hell, I'd even call this typical because it's one of Pez's cases we're talking about."

Connor eyed me nervously. "What does that have to with anything?"

"Oh, right," Vicki said, smacking herself in the forehead. "You're a rookie. Well, let me just go ahead and warn you. Pez has a habit of justattracting the most bizarre cases out thereand this one is definitely no exception."


	4. Chapter 4

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Well, I told myself that this story wouldn't have multiple POV's, buthow can it not? That's what I always do! Sohere we are. Hopefully all the transitions will be rather clear. Let me know if you're having a problem following the flow. Anyway, please, please review and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter! Thanks so much! Love you all! 

~DM

Chapter 4

Thanks, Vic, for putting ideas into his head. As if he wasn't curious enoughnow he won't leave me alone about this,' I groaned to myself as Connor and I trooped back to our office. On the way I stopped to grab a cup of coffee because I knew I couldn't possibly survive the eminent bombardment of questions from my rookie partner without the life-giving liquid.

"So, what was Vicki saying about you? That you always get the weird cases or something? What's with that?"

The interrogation has begun,' I thought, wincing. I rubbed the Witchblade absently and tugged on my shirtsleeve, pulling it down over the round red stone of the bracelet that encircled my right wrist. "Just another one of her theories. I do tend to get some weird ones, but that doesn't mean that all of them are. As far as I know there's no conspiracy against me that makes certain I get the bizarre ones."

Connor eyed me warily.

"You know what? It doesn't matter. Now come on. We've wasted enough time for this morning and there's a whole shitload of paperwork in there waiting for us, so we'd better get busy. I haven't seen the top of my desk in weeks," I remarked. We entered our office and got down to business, hoping that a morning of uninterrupted paper pushing would actually make the towers of documents that haunted us day and night shrink. I took a sip of coffee and dove into the pile headfirst.

***

I was in the middle of one of my fire-staring reveries, trying to devise a better plan to get Sara Pezzini out of my hair than the ones I had previously used, when the voice of Gina, my receptionist, broke through the silence of my office. 

"Mr. Irons, there's a young woman out here waiting to speak to you. A Ms. Avilla, I believe."

I rolled the name around in my head for a moment, wondering why it was familiar. Nothing came to mind immediately. "Does she have an appointment?" I inquired irritably.

"Umno, sir."

"Then we have nothing further to discuss, Gina," I said.

"But, sirshe insists on seeing you."

I cursed quietly to myself. Obviously the woman, whoever she was, was going to continue to drive me crazy until I allowed her to enter. "Send her in."

My office door opened and a tall woman in her mid-twenties entered the room, taking long, confident strides as she approached my desk. As she got closer, her features jogged my memory and relayed to me who the woman was.

"Adela Avilla. What a surprisebut that makes it no less a pleasure."

"I went by Adela in Italy when I was younger but now I prefer to go by Adair; it seems more American. And it's apleasure to see you again as wellFather." 

My eyes widened. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You mean to tell me you don't remember that little fling you had in London in 1978? With Aria Avilla the Italian supermodel?" she asked with a fine blend of innocence and sarcasm, but it was easy to tell that she was anything but innocent. 

I eyed Adair criticallyand I could see some resemblance to me. She was quite tall, probably because neither her mother nor I were exactly short. Adair's hair was the same pale blonde as mine and it reached her shoulders. Her skin was a few shades darker than mine but the difference wasn't drastic, and her eyes were green—like her mother's—and Sara's, I mused, but shook the thought from my mind as soon as it entered. Adair's eyes were a poisonous, dangerous green whereas Sara's were a morenormal, emerald shade. She was dressed in a beige wool pants suit and would have looked very frail if something hadn't told me that that was just a front.

"I remember quite well," I lied. "I was simply uninformed of your existence. Your mother never notified me of your birth. How is she?"

"She's dead," Adair deadpanned. "Why else would I even bother coming here?"

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said absently. I really couldn't have cared less. "What was the cause?"

"Brain tumor." 

"How unfortunate. I offer my greatest condolences."

"I'm sure you do."

I glanced around the room and my eyes fell on the decanter sitting on a table. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"Yes. Thank you." I got up and retrieved the decanter and two glasses, but she insisted on pouring our drinks. "Toan interesting reunion." She handed me my glass and we drank. 

"So, what exactly was it that you wanted to speak to me about?" I asked, and half-listened to what Adair had to say, which took about half an hour. She poured two more drinks and continued with her story. As her tale got longer and longer I began to feel somewhat odd. 

"Ms. Avilla—"

"—Oh, please, just call me Adair. Ms. Avilla' is much too formal an address for your daughter."

Luckily Gina's voice over the intercom saved me from having to reply. "Sir, there's an urgent call for you on line 3."

"Thank you, Gina," I replied, and pasted on a look of false regret. "I'm afraid I will have to take this, Adair."

"That's fine. It's probably about time for me to leave. I hope we can do this again sometime soon."

"Yes, wellif time allows." I gave her one of my patented false smiles.

Adair smiled and left. 

"Thank you, Gina," I repeated. There was no call on line 3; she had been instructed from the first day of her employment to say that if meetings took too long. I leaned back in my chair and turned to my computer, smiling broadly. I brought up the version of my will that I kept on file and dismay briefly ruined my cheerful mood when I saw that Ian was still my primary heir.

Ha. Not for long.' 

I made a few quick changes, renaming my heir. Never know what could happen,' I thought solemnly. I pressed the button on the intercom to summon Gina. 

"Yes, sir?"

"Find one other person—it doesn't matter who—and come in here immediately."

"Yes, sir," Gina said, obviously confused. I printed out a copy of the will and looked up when Gina and a security guard entered. 

"You wanted to see us?" 

I nodded and gestured to the new copy of my will. "I need witnesses," I said, smiling. The pair looked at me strangely but signed the document anyway. Delighted, I dismissed them and drifted off into a pleasant sleep in my chair.

***

Mr. Irons hadn't called me for two hours. It was odd enough that he was so cheerful when he summoned Timothy and myself, but what was stranger was the document he wanted us to sign. He had now decided to change his heir from Mr. Nottingham, a devoted (until recently) employee and had now shifted to someone he barely knew. Shrugging to myself, since it wasn't really my business, I decided to buzz Mr. Irons to make sure he hadn't forgotten about his next appointment before I started doing my nails.

"Mr. Irons?" I said into the intercom. I waited several minutes and tried again. "Mr. Irons?" Still nothing. My brow furrowed. Something didn't feel right. 

I got up from my desk and went to Mr. Irons's office. I knocked lightly at first, then a bit more sharply. I finally just decided to open the door and found Mr. Irons asleep at his desk. I wouldn't have thought anything about it had it not been for two facts I knew quite well. Number One: Mr. Irons never fell asleep at his desk, and Number Two: He was such a light sleeper that surely my intercom pages or knocks would have roused him. Even though I was afraid of arousing his wrath and putting my position in jeopardy, I entered the office and went around his desk, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. This had no effect, so I shook him.

"Mr. Irons?" I asked rather loudly. When I finished shaking him, his head slumped forward and I cautiously touched his hand. It was ice cold. There was no pulse at his wrist when I checked. I screamed for some help and Timothy ran into the office. 

"What's up, Gina?"

I was incoherent but I think he picked "Mr. Irons issomething's not right" out of my jumble of phrases. He rushed over and took the boss's carotid pulse. 

"Call the cops," Timothy said tersely. I ran out of the office to my desk and pressed a button on speed dial. For once there was actually a legitimate reason to call this number

***

The harsh ring of the phone on my desk broke the silence of our office, making Connor and me jump involuntarily.

"Pezzini, Homicide," I answered, shouldering the phone as I tried to finish up a final signature on a form.

"Detective, there's been a suspicious death," a woman's halting voice said over the line.

"Who is this?" I asked, sitting up straight.

"Detective Pezzini, this is Gina, Mr. Irons's receptionist. I found Mr. Irons in his officeapparently dead. He was fine this morning, I don't know what could have happened—" she broke off.

"All right, Gina, clam down. My partner and I will be right there," I said, and we hung up. "Come on, rookie, we've got work to do." I got my gear together and looked back at Connor. 

"What's going on?"

"There's been asuspicious death. Don't know if it's a murder yet. Let's roll."

Connor and I left the precinct and piled into the car. I drove our unmarked Chevy Caprice out of the parking lot.

"Where are we headed?"

"Vorschlag Industries."

"You mean"

"Yeah. Evidently Kenneth Irons was found dead a couple of minutes ago."


	5. Chapter 5

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Hello, all! Apparently the writer's block is getting cured. Hope you enjoy Chapter 5! Please review! Love you all! 

~DM

Chapter 5

I pulled up to the all-too-familiar building and an unusual feeling washed over me, like a combination of relief and apprehension. It seemed incredibly surreal: the one man left that had made my life a living hell, considering Dante was already dead, was finally goneit was just too good to be true. 

Connor and I got out of the car and headed inside. A distraught woman whom I assumed was Gina met us at the door.

"Detective. I'm so glad to see you. We haven't moved anything, and the, umforensics team is here."

"Thanks. How are you holding up? It must have been pretty shocking, finding him like that."

"Oh, it was. If I hadn't known how demanding Mr. Irons was, I wouldn't have found him for a lot longer. He's usually calling me from the intercom constantly, so a two-hour break was just weird. I knew something was up."

"I see. Well, Connor, we'd better get in there and check it out." We continued down the hall and entered Irons's office, which was crawling with forensics guys.

"What've we got?" I asked the nearest one.

"We're not sure yet. Not a mark on him, either. We're dusting for prints. Could be natural causes but we don't know yet."

That would be too ironic, Irons dying of natural causes. With all the people who wanted to kill him, one of them had to have done something. The Witchblade perked up and, almost happily, it seemed, showed me a vision. All I saw was a glass of what I assumed was liquor of some kind clasped in Irons's double-ring scarred hand. 

"Have you guys checked the glasses?" I asked.

"Prints or testing?" the forensics guy asked.

"Either. Both. Whatever."

"We're waiting for results. Shouldn't take too long."

"Great. Connor, go back out there and interview Gina. See if she can shed any light on what was going on earlier today."

"I'm on it, Pez." He jogged out.

I stayed in the office with the forensics team for a little while longer, trading theories and watching as they took Irons's body out of the office, when Connor rushed back inside.

"Pez, you'd better get out here. Now."

"What's going on, rookie?" I followed him out of the office and down the hall.

"Gina told me that Mr. Irons was in a meeting earlier this morning. With a woman."

"Hmmmunrequited love?" I mused.

"Don't think so. Her name was Avilla, but Gina doesn't know her first name. She described her as, and I quote, "scary."

"Not a good sign. Any other description?

"Nothing she gave me. She wants to talk to you."

We reached Gina's desk and Connor spoke up. "Detective Pezzini is interested in this visitor Mr. Irons had earlier this morning."

"Oh, right, the scary one. Her name was Avilla. Last name, anyway. No clue what the first name was. She was tall, with white-blonde hair and these freaky green eyes."

"Hey" I had green eyes.

"Not like yours, Detective. Yours are normalpretty, even." I colored slightly. "Hers were weird. Way too bright, poisonous would be a good word to describe them" Gina trailed off and her own brown eyes widened in fright. "I don't need to say any more," she said, gesturing discreetly behind us. I whirled and saw a woman exactly like what Gina had described coming toward us. 

"Speaking of the devil," Connor muttered.

"I don't think you're far off the mark. She looks evil," I replied at the same volume.

"Miss, I believe I left something here," Scary' Lady said to Gina. "What on earth is going on?"

"And who might you be?" Connor wanted to know.

The woman raised an eyebrow and a somewhat disgusted look came across her features as she looked at him. It was then that I noticed an odd familiarity that I couldn't place.

"My name is Adair Avilla. What is the meaning of all this?"

"Ms. Avilla, did you meet with Mr. Irons this morning?" I asked.

"Yes, in fact I did, but I don't see how it's any business of yours. I believe I left a very expensive pair of sunglasses here and I want to go see if Mr. Irons has themand I don't wish to be interrogated any further for whatever reason!"

"Ms. Avilla, what happened this morning is very much our business. I'm Detective Pezzini and this is my partner Detective Connor. We're with the NYPD, Homicide. Mr. Irons was found dead in his office about half an hour ago."

Ms. Avilla looked stunned. "That's impossibleI was here earlier today and he was perfectly fine. How did he die?"

"We're not sure yet. We haven't finished testing yet and the results of the tests we have taken haven't come back yet," Connor said.

"You seem familiar. Have we met, Ms. Avilla?" I asked cautiously. 

She eyed me carefully. "Surely notand you may call me Adair if you wish." She glanced down at the uncovered Witchblade. "That's a lovely bracelet, Detective."

"Thank you," I replied. Something didn't seem right aboutAdair. 

"If I may, I will put your mind at ease about where you have seen me before, Detective. You knew my father."

"You mean?" Connor asked incredulously.

"Yes. My father is—was—Kenneth Irons."

"Hey, Pez," one of the forensics guys called as he jogged down the hall to the reception area. "You'd better look at this." He handed me a small bundle of papers held together by a paper clip. I flipped through it, my eyes widening. "This is Irons's will. And it's dated today!"

"Who's named in it?" Connor inquired.

"Just one persona Ms. Adair Avilla."

"Is it any surprise? He was my father, after all," Adair said haughtily.

"But he didn't even know who you were until this morning!" Gina piped up.

"Is this true?" I asked.

"Perhaps."

"Evasiveness will get you nowhere," Connor said. "Except a quick trip down to the station for questioning."

"Fine, it's the truth. Happy now? So what if he changed his will before he died? He just found out he had a daughter. I am his natural heir."

"Hmm" I hadn't thought that Ian would be getting anything after the way he pissed Irons off, and the same for Raven, but stillit seemed way too coincidental.

For fifteen minutes Connor pushed, prodded, and threatened Adair with interrogation at the precinct and finally got some results. We pieced together the meeting with him and together with Gina's statement we got a picture of what had happened on the last morning of Irons's life. 

"Detectives," a man said, stepping out of the shadows. "I'm Timothy Barker, a security guard for Vorschlag. I signed that document as well, if you need to ask me any questions." Connor went over to talk with him and I went off by myself for a moment.

"I've got a question for you," I muttered. "What the hell is going on here?"


	6. Chapter 6

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Hope you enjoy Chapter 6! Thanks, Pix, for my continuing loan of Raven Coleand all you readers out there, if you want to understand a certain line in this chapter, read One's Will by Pixie-Dust. Thanks for paying attention this long, and please, PLEASE review. I haven't been getting manywhich is a definite turn-off for my muse. Lots of dialogue in this one! Enjoy!

~DM

Chapter 6

The forensics team finished up in Irons's office and Connor already had statements from Adair, Gina, and Timothy Barker. 

This kid's gonna be one hell of a cop,' I thought to myself, grinning.

"Pez, we're pretty much done here. I think we should head out."

"All right. We'll just have to wait to hear from Vic about the cause of death. Let's get out of here."

We left Vorschlag Industries for what—I hoped—was the last time and headed back to the precinct. 

We got out of the car in the parking lot and headed up to the building. I stopped on the front step.

"You go ahead and get back to that paperwork. It's not signing itself. I just need to make one quick phone call."

"Sure, Pez. Just don't take too long; your share of paper's calling your name." Connor put a hand up to his ear, pretending to hear it.

"Get back in there, you wacko," I said, grinning helplessly. He shuffled inside and my grin faded as I remembered what I had to go and do. Sighing, I flipped open my cell phone and hit one button on my speed dial.

"Sara?" Ian answered. I was one of the only people that knew his numberand the only one that currently used it.

"Yeah, it's me. Whatcha up to?"

"Waiting in a ridiculously crowded unemployment office. I'm having a blast. I'm number D15 and they're only on A12."

"Ouch. I can tell you're really enjoying yourself. Listen, IanI've got some news. I'm not sure if you'll find it good or bad."

"Well, what is it?" he asked.

"I'm not sure how to say it"

"Don't try to sugarcoat it. Just be blunt. You've never had a problem with that before." I heard the smile in his voice.

"Hey, watch it, mister. You're treading on dangerous ground. Remember who you're talking to. Especially if you want to get into the apartment tonight."

"I know. I just couldn't resist. So what's the big news?"

I took a deep breath and began. "IanIrons died this morning. We don't know how yet, but I thought I should let you know."

Silence on the other end of the line.

"Ian? You okay?"

"I suppose. On one hand I'm glad he's deadso he is no longer hanging over us. Threatening you. But on the other"

"You're sorry he's dead because he raised you," I finished.

"There goes that bluntness again. Yes, that's what I was trying to say."

"I'll let you know as soon as anything meaningful turns up. You'll probably still be sitting there," I teased.

"Probably so," he chuckled. "This line doesn't appear to be moving at all."

"Well, good luck, andIan?"

"Yes?"

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Thank you, my love. I'll let you get back to work. No doubt you have quite an accumulation of paperwork to do."

I groaned. "Thanks for reminding me. See you tonight."

"Not if I see you first," he returned.

"You probably will, knowing you. Bye," I said, laughing a little, and we both hung up. 

Satisfied, but still a little worried about Ian, I headed back inside. I passed a TV on the way in that was tuned to VCN News, talking about—what else?—its founder's demise.

"So, the press already knows about it," I said to Connor as I came in.

"Yup. We haven't gotten grilled yet, but Laredo's been fielding calls all morning. Not happy about it, either."

"I don't blame him," I said as I sat down at my desk and searched for a pen under the towers of documents on top of said furniture. 

"What do you think about it?" Connor asked abruptly.

"Come again?" I asked.

"Irons's death. What do you think? How? And how do you feel about it?"

"Personally, I feel that the bastard deserved it."

"Really?" Connor asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

The kid's been hanging around me too long,' I thought. Aloud I said, "Yeah. He was a real jerk. I met him more times than I'd care to remember."

"How do you think he died?"

"Something internal. No one came in and hacked him up, obviouslyso it's probably not related to our other murder. Different MO. We haven't even proven that Irons was murdered yet, but that's my wager. We'll just have to see."

Connor nodded solemnly. "I think poison."

"Maybe. Could have been heart attack. But we'll just have to see."

My cell phone chose that moment to shatter the silence.

"Hello?"

"Ding dong, the bastard's dead!" Raven Cole sang cheerfully in my ear. "Yeah, I know, don't start passing out the Grammies yetI definitely don't deserve one."

"Hmm hi to you too, Raven, and you seem so distraught about his death," I remarked. "Besides, what would you do with a Grammy? Use it as a weapon?"

Raven?' Connor mouthed. Weird name.'

Watch it. She's a friend,' I returned.

"Oh, yes. Probably the only good I could get out of it. It's just that Irons dyingwas such a shock, andI don't know if I can make it through this difficult time" Raven trailed off.

"Are you going to thank the Academy now?" I groaned.

"Just send me my Oscar in the mail, Sara."

"Sure. So how are you holding up?"

"Just peachy. Everything's coming up daisies and lemon drops."

"Ooookaysorry I asked." 

"Hey, I'm just glad Irons kicked the bucket already. My life was enough of a hell trying to deal with himI'll never forget that day that I first learned to control my powers"

"What, when Kenny got the red-hot poker and the dry ice spoon?" Connor gave me a weird look after that one, not that I blamed him, but I ignored it. Raven's own description, shared with me long ago, had stuck in my mind because of its originality.

"Oh, yeahyou'd better believe it." I could picture Raven smirking on the other end.

"So how's everything going with you and Jackson?" I asked.

"Great. Destiny's definitely a good reason to hook up, as I'm sure you know."

"Absolutely." I noticed Connor's attention waning, thankfully.

"How's Ian doing? I haven't heard from him in a while. It's weird; we've all diverged since the warehouse fire."

"He's great. Not sure how he's going to take this, though"

"Well, he was around the man longer than I was. He's stronger than I could have ever imagined, living with Irons for his entire life. He's lucky he's got you."

"Oh, stop it, Raven. You're going to make me blush." Connor's ears pricked up at that and he started paying closer attention. " We should all get back together sometime soon. I'll talk to Gabe and Mac about ityou two are for it?"

"Absolutely. It'll be fun. Just like the old days."

"The old days were only six weeks ago. You make it sound like six years."

"True. Well, anyway, before I go, I heard about that murder case you're trying to solve."

"The one where I got a special present?" I asked with disgust.

"Yep. Actually, Jackson heard about it. It piqued his interest, so he and I are going to see what we can dig up. Hopefully if the killer's a serial we can stop him or her before another person gets killed. You don't think this killer has anything to do with Irons's death, do you?"

"With what I know, no. Irons's death wasn't messyit probably was something internal like poison or heart attack, but we don't have results yet. Anyway, let me know if you find out anythingand Raven?"

"Yeah, Sara?"

"Don't go all vigilante on me, okay? If you find something, tell me and let me handle it."

"Okay," Raven said reluctantly. "You take all the fun out of this, Sara."

"Murder isn't fun, Raven."

"Depends on if you do it the right way," Raven teased.

"I never said you had immunity, Raven. Don't push me," I returned, fully facetious.

"Touché. See ya, Sara."

"Bye Bye, Birdie."

Raven groaned before she hung up, and I couldn't help laughing.

"What the hell was that all about, Pez? Red-hot pokers, dry ice spoons, vigilantes? Riveting stuff, but I hardly understood it."

"More than you'd care to know about, Connor. Maybe someday you'll find out, butdon't count on it. And you weren't supposed to understand it. It was my conversation."

"This Raven friend of yours seems like a real live wire."

"Trueand if nothing else, Raven is most assuredly one of a kind."


	7. Chapter 7

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Hey! Sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out, but I had to get all my facts straight. I have resolved to say this every few chapters just to be PC, but everyone knows I don't own anything Witchblade save the characters of Mac, Jackson, Ciara, Adair, and Luke, as well as the plot or whatever. So, now that that's been said, I just want to add that if you are a huge Jake fan, you will not like what is coming in future chapters. So beware. Thanks so much for all of your support and praise, and don't you dare forget to review! Or I will definitely *forget*to post! ;)

~DM

Chapter 7

I was getting ready to leave for the night after an extremely boring rest of the day when Vicki came up from the morgue to talk to me.

"Aaaah! The Queen of the Dead has emerged for her nocturnal hunt!" Connor exclaimed, feigning horror.

"Knock it off, rookie. What's going on, Vic?" I asked.

"Well, we've got the results on Kenneth Irons's autopsy," Vicki said, shooting a scathing look at Connor, who flinched.

"Well? What've we got?" I asked, ignoring my partner.

"Apparently Irons ingested a great deal of a drug that's just come out on the market. It's somewhat hallucinogenic, but in a wayit's not."

"What? I kind of lost your answer in all the vagueness surrounding it."

"Right. Anyway, this stuff's called La Morte Allegra*, or the Merry Death. I like to call it LMA, cause it's faster. By whatever name, it's a stimulant but it has some slight hallucinogenic properties and substantial mood-altering qualities, making the user feel extreme happiness for a short time. Guess it's like a high or something, but whatever. If given a high enough dose, a person's system could be sped up so much that the person's heart could literally burst. And that's what happened to Kenneth Irons."

"So you're telling me that someone gave Irons some weird new drug from somewhere—"

"Italy," Vicki supplied. "Yeah, I know. Not the first place you would have thought of."

"—Okay, from Italy, then he toyed around with his will for a second, and, all of a sudden, out of the blue it overloaded his circuits and his heart exploded?" I asked, incredulous.

"Pretty much," Vicki said.

"But if he were under the influence of drugs, wouldn't his change to his will be invalid?"

"Normally yes, but this is one of your cases, Pez."

"Oh, no," Connor groaned.

"What do you mean?" I asked, dreading where this was leading.

"Well, Irons changed his will on computer. Therefore the original status of the document has been lostthe other person's name was deleted, according to the witnesses. So even if the new will was contested, there's no way of knowing who he originally left everything to."

"Great. So, is that it?"

"Not quite," Vicki said. "It seems that Irons had a multiplier effect type of thing going on. LMA was in powder form in this case and Irons had alcohol in his blood."

"Meaning?" Connor asked.

"Meaning that LMA was probably in his drink. That's my analysis, but that doesn't mean I'm right."

"So this could be a murder after all," Connor said.

"Could be."

"I think we should go back to the crime scene. Look around for clues," I said.

"But aren't you getting ready to go?" Connor inquired.

"Oh, yeah. Well, can I trust you to go down there and hunt around?"

"Pez, I'm your partner. Of course you can trust me."

Just because you're my partner doesn't mean I can trust you,' I thought, remembering some of the more unsavory times with Jake. Remember how paranoid I am?' Aloud I said, "You're also a rookie who's learning the ropes."

"Aww, come on Pez! I can handle it. I swear I'll call you if I find anything noteworthy."

"Okay. Just don't do anything stupid. I'll see you tomorrow. And if I end up getting a call from you tonight at an ungodly hour, it had better be for a damn good reason or else I will have your ass on a platter tomorrow morning. Do I make myself clear?"

"You couldn't be any clearer than that."

"Good. See you tomorrow. And thanks for the info, Vic."

"Not a problem, Pez. Hey Connor, wanna walk me back to the Palace of Doom?"

"Ergh. Not likely. You can go back to your creepy kingdom alone, Your Highness."

Vicki sighed. "I get no respect."

"Rookies. You just have to knock them around a little."

"I'll keep that in mind," Vicki said, throwing a glance at Connor. "See you later, Pez." She headed back down to the morgue.

"Well, we'd both better be leaving. You need to get over to VorschlagI'm not sure when they close," I said.

"Well, okay. I'll keep you posted, Pez."

"Thanks." I left the building and headed for home.

Seeking to reconnect with friends, and realizing that I had a little time to spare, I pulled up outside the building that housed Talismaniac.com, Gabriel Bowman's brainchild. As I walked up the stairs, the opening strains of "Proud Mary" by Creedence Clearwater Revival came blaring through the (closed) door of the Internet oddities shop.

I pounded on the door, which was probably a hopeless cause considering the volume of the music, and shouted, "Gabriel! Gabe!" I turned the doorknob and walked in, since it was unlocked, and came face to face with Gabe, who instead of his typical 70's garb, was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a flannel long-sleeved shirt. Will wonders never cease,' I thought with a slight smile.

"Hey Chief! It's great to see you upright!" he said, impulsively hugging me. I grinned and returned the hug. 

"That seems to be the general consensus," I said. "It seems like it's been forever."

"Seriously. But it's only been a few weeks."

"How's Mac?"

"She's fine. She still hasn't quite gotten over the warehouse fire, though. I mean, with all the money she spent on computers, anyone would feel sick if they all burst into flame."

"True. I've been wondering where she got all that money."

"Well, some she raised herself but most of it came from her inheritance from her parents."

"What happened to them?"

"She's never really elaborated but I do know they died in a car crash. Her father had more cash than most small countries," Gabe said. "So she could afford the expensesbut still. It took her a while to formulate the whole organization."

"I guess so. How many people are still in it? I haven't heard about any death tolls."

"I'm not sure myself. I don't think anyone died in the fire, since the warehouse was pretty much empty for the night. I think a handful or so died in the raid on the Bulls' warehouse, but after that I don't know. You'd have to ask Mac."

"Well, anyway, the reason I'm here is—"

"What, you mean you didn't just stop by to see your devilishly handsome friend Gabriel?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Welldo you want me to lie?"  
"Yes."

"Then yes, that was the only reason I came."

"Hmmmsounded way better in my head. So, why are you really here?"

"I wanted us to get together. You, me, Mac, Ian, Raven, and Jackson."

"Sounds good to me. I'll call them if you want me to. Dinner?"

"Probably. I talked to Raven earlier today. I think any time this week is good for us," I said.

"Awesome. I'll see if I can set something up with the rest of the gang and then I'll let you know when it is."

"Great. Well, I've gotta head out. Ian's probably wondering where I am."

"Just tell him you had to work late."

"Why, when telling him I was here is so harmless?" I asked, teasing.

"Yeah, yeah." Gabe waved me off and I grinned.

"Bye, Gabriel."

"Bye, Chief. Talk to you later."

I left Gabe's place and smiled, shaking my head, when CCR cranked up behind me. "Some things never change," I said to myself.

*I used one of those Internet translator things, so I'm pretty sure that La Morte Allegra either means the Merry Death or the Cheerful Death. Something along those lines, and I'm sure you get the point. ;) Anyway, if anyone knows for sure what this phrase means, please let me know! Thanks!

  
~DM


	8. Chapter 8

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Well, here's more Duplicity! Hope you all enjoyand trust me, it won't stay this tranquil for long. Here's a little romance for my friends Pixie-Dust, Spin, and all you other Ian/Sara shippers out there. Please, please don't forget to review! Seriously, if I don't get at least 5 reviews for this chapter, I might lose Chapter 9!

~DM

Chapter 8

For once I was home before Ian. It felt weird being in my apartment by myself and I couldn't believe that that was true. I'd never imagined anything but being in my apartment by myself until Ian came along, sitting on my fire escape night after night and worming his way into my heart. When he finally walked in the door an hour after me, he was shocked to see me standing at the top of the stairs waiting on him. 

"What time is it?" he asked. 

"7:00. Surprised to see me?"

"Just a little. Not that I'm not glad to," he said.

"I missed you today," I said as he climbed the stairs.

"Are there days when you don't?" he inquired, eyebrows raised, as he took off his overcoat and hung it over a chair. I shook my head, smiling. 

"Of course not," I replied. "Homicide isn't so entrancing that it makes me forget about you."

"Good. For a second there I thought I was losing my touch."

"You are hopeless."

"I know. Now, what are our plans for tonight?"

"Well, how does takeout and a night to ourselves sound?"

"Perfect," Ian said. "What did you have in mind?" he said, embracing me. 

"You, me, some Chinese foodI know a great Chinese place that delivers." I kissed him then.

"Mmmmwhat else?"

"Preferably an appointment with my mattress?" 

"Assuming he can squeeze us in."

I laughed. "Let me call the restaurant," I said, and Ian released me. 

I made the call and the owner answered.

"Is that you, Sara?"

"Yep. Sure is, Bob. Can I have my usual times two?" I asked.

"Sure thing. I'll get Nick to bring it out there to you. So, times two, huh? Got company?"

"Yep," I said.

"Good for you. I was wondering when that was going to happen. Hope it works out well for you."

"Thanks, Bob. Me, too."

"Nick'll be over there in at least thirty minutes."

"Great. Thanks."

"Not a problem. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and turned to Ian. "It'll be here in thirty minutes."

"Well, we're in luck."

"What do you mean?"

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "I was able to get an appointment. He can only see us for thirty minutes at first, though, but I think he'll have another opening later tonight."

"Who?"

"Your mattress."

"Oh, really? Do you think we can get our business done in thirty minutes?"

"I have full confidence in us."

"Well, then, by all means. What are we waiting for? Time's a-wasting."

I glanced at the clock when I heard a knock on my door. "Food. Yay." I disentangled myself from Ian, pulled on some boxers and a large T-shirt, and went to the door.

"Ms. Pezzini?" the delivery boy asked.

"Yes. Hi, Nick. How much do I owe you?"

"$16.67."

I took the food from the kid and put it on the table, grabbed my wallet, and pulled out a twenty. 

"Keep the change," I said, and Nick grinned. 

"Thanks, ma'am. Enjoy!"

"Thank you." I closed the door after he waved me goodbye and went over to prod Ian awake. "Baby, food's here."

Ian muttered something, making me grin, and got up slowly. "Thank God. I haven't had any in about 8 hoursand the last bit I did have wasn't enough to really be worth mentioning."

"Vending machine?" I asked. He nodded. I winced.

"Yes, that was my reaction as well."

"Well, here's something better than that was, I'm sure. You'd better like it, too, because I slaved over it."

"Hmmm. Unless you learned how to cook while I was asleep, I'll have to think you're lying," Ian said. 

I punched him in the shoulder. "Shut up," I said, smiling, and we sat down to eat.

***

"Sara?" I asked after we had been eating in silence for a while. 

"Hmm?"

"Have you heard anything aboutMr. Irons?" I asked.

She nodded sadly and told me everything her friend the medical examiner had told her. I was amazedI hadn't expected anything like that. To be completely honest, when Sara informed me of his death, I would have believed that he had been shot twenty times or that his head was found in the fireplace roasting on a spit before I believed that his death was clean. It just didn't seem like the way he would go. So when she explained to me about the drug, I was speechless for a moment.

"Yeah, seems too good for him, doesn't it?" Sara asked in that way of hers that seemed like she was reading my mind although I knew she wasn't. "The old girl here would have liked to been involved, I'm sure—" she said, holding up the Witchblade, "—and she came pretty close a couple of times, but I guess it wasn't meant to be."

"I actually am glad that you had no role in his death, Sara. I wouldn't want his blood to stain your hands. Even though you hated him—as I, Raven, and practically everyone who knew him did—you would feel guilty about it and that's not something I would want to watch you go through."

"Thanks," she said. "Besides, it's enough for me that he's gone. I don't really care how. But even he deserves justice if it was a murder, which we're not sure about yet, but—"

"It was undoubtedly a murder," I interrupted. "Mr. Irons never used drugs save sleeping pills, and even if he did, they would not be stimulants or hallucinogens." 

"We'll just have to see what turns up," she said. "Oh, before I forget, have you ever heard of a woman by the name of Adair Avilla?" 

I rolled the name around in my head for a moment. "Avilla sounds familiar. Adair, though, doesn't. I seem to remember a model by that namebut I thought her name was Aria? She could have changed it, butwhat did she look like?"

"Tall, blonde hair like Irons, and freaky green eyes. Gina the receptionist described her as "scary."

"No, that doesn't sound like her. Aria Avilla was short and had long brown hair and green eyesa very bright shade of green."

"I think this Adair is her daughter by Kenneth Irons. That's who she claimed to beand physical appearance makes it seem feasible. She's also the sole heir named in his will."

"Really?" Now this was just slightly too coincidental. This mystery daughter appears out of the blue and suddenly gets named sole heir. If I was in his will (I had never seen it), I expected to be written out because of what he saw as my betrayal, but stillit seemed too well orchestrated.

"Are you going to investigate her?" I asked.

"Undoubtedly. I think it seems a little strange that she shows up, says Hi, dad!' and gets in the will before you can say illegitimate child.' Something's up."

"I agree. I think she would be your best bet."

"Well, I do believe we're late for that second appointment you mentioned."

"Oh, really?" I inquired. 

"Yes, really. And this time I believe we have a lot more time to get some real work done."

"Just what I wanted to hear."

***

After the appointment had concluded and Ian and I had drifted off to sleep, my dream about a church tower made me wake up to find that the bells I had heard was the ringing of my cell phone. I reached for it on my nightstand and slipped out of Ian's hold to answer it.

"Hello?" I said quietly.

"Pez, it's Connor."

"Damn it rookie! What's going on? It better be good."

"Oh, it is. We found something interesting on Gina Ramirez's desk."

"Like what?" I asked impatiently.

"Like a packet of LMA, that's like what."

"No way!"

"Yep. We brought her in."

"Oh, boy. Do you want me to come down there?"

"Do you mind?"

I sighed, looking back at my sleeping stalker. "No, not really. Heard anything on our other case?"

"Ms. Head-in-a-Box?"

"Yeah."  
"Not so much as a sound of sharpening razorblades. Are you sure this one's gonna go serial?"

"Something tells me, Connor. Just seems like it. Where are you, precinct or Vorschlag?"

"Precinct. Laredo's here, too. He wants to know what's going on so he can tell the press ASAP."

"Okay, I'll be down there in 20."

"See you soon, Pez."

"Bye." I hung up and cursed Kenneth Irons for interrupting me even after he'd left this realm.

I got dressed in record time and wrote a quick note to Ian, just in case he woke up wondering where I was.

__

Emergency at the precinct. Connor called and thinks he's bagged the person that killed Irons. Wanted me to come down and check it out. I'll give you more info when I get back. Sorry, honey.

Love,

Sara

I left the note on my pillow and got my gear together as quietly as possible. I re-locked the door behind me and, sighing heavily, headed for the precinct.


	9. Chapter 9

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Well, are you guys trying to tell me something? I had to struggle to get 5 reviews! I know it's summer, but surely some of you are home. Those of you who did review, I appreciate it. I'm really not trying to sound too demanding, I promise, I just want to know if anyone's actually paying attention to whether or not I post. So I hope you enjoy this latest chapter, and PLEASE review!

~DM ;)

Chapter 9

"Okay, I'm here now, so everyone can relax," I said as I entered the precinct. 

It was practically deserted. 

"Well, there go my dreams of heroism."

"Pez! Good, I'm glad you're here. Gina's really pissed at me; she won't say anything," Connor said, flagging me down. 

"Hmmm, and why might that be, rookie? Maybe because you think she killed her boss and she's convinced otherwise?"

"Hmm. Could be." He seemed thoughtful.

I sighed. "Let me talk to hermaybe I can actually get somewhere."

"Okaygood luck. But beware: she's kind of sullen right now."

"Gee, wonder why?" I asked sarcastically.

"Hey, it's not my fault. If you had been there and found the drugs, you would have done the same thing."

"I might have. Then again, maybe not. You might have jumped to conclusions, Connor, and if you have, you'll have distracted us all from the real suspect by wasting our time with an innocent woman."

"Oh, great. Now you're pissed at me, too."

"I'll get over it. You told me that you'd call me if anything came up and I should have known that that meant anything."

"Were you asleep?" he wanted to know.

"More or less," I said, allowing him to draw his own conclusions. We arrived at Gina's cell at that point and Connor decided it was prudent not to ask me exactly what I meant. Naturally he'd save it to torment me with later.

"Guard!" I called, and the guard opened the door to Gina's cell. Gina was sitting on her cot, hands folded in her lap, head down. When she heard the cell door open, her head snapped up and a look of anger and apprehension took over her features. Then she realized who it was.

"Detective Pezzini," she said, sounding extremely relieved. The mixed emotions fled from her face. "Thank God."

"Hi, Gina. How are you holding up?" I asked. I sat down beside Gina.

"I've been better. Did you know that your partner Detective Connor is a lunatic! He thinks I killed Mr. Irons." 

"Did you?" I asked involuntarily.

She shook her head vigorously, making her jaw-length black hair fly around her face. Her gray eyes beseeched my green ones. "I swear I didn't. Do you think I did?"

"I learn all I can about a situation before I decide what I believe."

"More than I can say for your partner. I didn't even have a reason to kill Irons. He was my boss. I needed the money he paid me."

I turned and glanced back at Connor. "I really do think he means well, Gina, but he's just a rookie. Hopefully he'll get better with a little more experienceand maybe he'll become less impulsive." I gave him a little go away' wave and he reluctantly complied. "So, back to the subject. What's going on here, Gina?"

"Detective Pezzini, I—"

"Please, Gina, if we're going to get anywhere, you'll need to start calling me Sara," I said with a smile. 

"Okay, thenSara it is. I have been in a daze ever since your partner showed up. He wanted to investigate the crime scene again and I didn't see why that would be bad, considering I couldn't stop it."

"True. So what happened?"

"I went in there with Connor out of curiosity and he looked all over the office. He found nothing, we walked back out, and he was about to leave. Then, probably on a whim, he looks through the stacks of paper on my desk and inexplicably finds a package of what turns out to be the exact same drug that killed Mr. Irons," Gina deadpanned. She sighed and then looked me straight in the eye. "But I swear to whatever you want me to swear to—God, Christ, whatever—that I have no idea how it got there. I don't even know what it was, just that it was some kind of drug in a powder form. If I didn't know better, I'd think he put it there himself" she mused. Shaking her head as though to clear it, she continued. "Then he brought me here and locked me up, took the bag of powder to the lab—at least, I think that's where he went—and then came back and told me it was the same stuff that killed Irons. But I don't know how it got on my desk or why he automatically thought it was mine."

I took her hand with my right, hoping for a clue from the Witchblade. It showed me nothing to the contrary, so I believed Gina's story. She seemed like a nice girl and I personally couldn't believe that she would do anything to hurt or kill her boss, no matter how much of a bastard he was. She obviously needed the job if she hung around Vorschlag of all places.

"Gina, I believe you. I don't think you had anything to do with this and I'm going to see if I can get my partner to lay off for a while until we get a better idea of what happened. Was there a security camera in Mr. Irons's office?"

Gina nodded. "Mr. Nottingham made sure of it."

"I probably should have thought of that earlier. We'll call Vorschlag and see if they can send us some tapes of what was going on earlier today."

"Thanks. Will you keep me posted, Sara? Doesn't seem like I'll be out of here anytime soon."

"As much as I can. And don't give up, Gina; we'll find out what really happened and you'll be off the hook. Bye."

"Bye, Sara."

Puzzling over what Gina had meant when talking about Connor and the drugs, I caught Connor by the forearm and dragged him down the hall. I wanted to grab him by the ear but I'd save that for when he really screwed up. We stopped outside our office.

"Call Vorschlag and get the security tapes from the cameras in Irons's office and the ones monitoring Gina's desk. Have them here by tomorrow morning. Then go home and get some sleep; I have a feeling that tomorrow's gonna be one hell of a bad day." 

I picked up my gear and started to leave. I stopped and turned around, remembering one more thing I hadn't said. "And if you call me in the middle of the night like that again tonight, I can make no guarantees for your safety tomorrow. Think about that." Having said that, I left the precinct and hoped to be able to squeeze out a few more hours of sleep before I had to return.


	10. Chapter 10

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Well, enjoy this last bit of fun. Hope you all are enjoying this so farit's about to get interesting. Thanks for all the support. At least now I realize that people actually do care whether I post or not. Keep those reviews coming, though! Love you all!

~DM

Chapter 10

I crept back into my apartment, not even wanting to look at the clock to see what time it was because I knew it would only depress me. I gently set my gear down near the door, considering it would be easier to get to if I grabbed it on the way out in a few short hours. I approached the bed and undressed slowly, gingerly sliding back into bed. Ian was a really light sleeper and I didn't want to wake him unnecessarily. I felt my pillow and noticed that the note was missing. He must have awoken while I was gone. 

Shit,' I thought. I had been hoping that I'd be able to throw the note away without him ever seeing it, butoh, well. I took a chance by sliding over closer to him and he stirred a little. Don't wake up, don't wake up,' I thought.

"Sara?" he murmured.

Shit.' "Yeah, it's me, baby. Sorry I woke you up."

" S okay. I was just dozingwaiting for you."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know. Aren't I wonderful?" Even though it was dark I knew he was grinning.

"Smart ass."

"Yes, but I'm a cute smart ass." 

"Can't argue with that." I smiled as one of Ian's arms snaked around my waist, pulling me closer.

"So what was so important that your partner dragged you away from me?" he asked, leaning over to kiss me.

"Mmmm" I smiled against his lips. "Connor was convinced that he'd bagged Irons's killer, like I said in my note."

"I see. Who did he think it was?"

"Gina." 

"Gina! Gina Ramirez?"

"Yup."

Ian seemed startled. "That's not possible. She was a very nice girl, even though she tended to have a fixation on her fingernails earlier in her employment, butI'm nearly positive that she wouldn't in her wildest dreams have killed Irons. She needed the money he was paying her."

"That's what she said."

"How was she implicated?"

"They found a packet of the same drug that killed Irons on her desk. I know, I know, that could have gotten there in a million different ways. Connor locked her up, though, and as much as I don't like it, we're going to have to keep her for a little while considering she's the only thing close to a suspect we have. We won't be able to keep her for very long without charges, so" I let my sentence trail off.

"Well, I guess I can forgive him this once," Ian said. "However, if this begins to be a habit, I won't be so forgiving."

"That's almost what I told him as I was leaving tonight."

"Well, I think we should shut up and go back to sleep now, because you are going to have a long day tomorrow."

"You're right. Ian?"

"Yes, love?"

"Am I cursed to be forever saddled with impulsive, goofy rookies?" I asked.

Ian chuckled. "I can't say I know the answer to that question. But this rookie seems a vast improvement over your last one"

"Yeah, yeah, Jake bad, Connor good. More or less, anyway. I got it. Good night."

"Good night, my love."

My alarm clock rang with its usual frustrating regularity and woke me up way too soon. I didn't want to get out of bed any more than I wanted to face the day at the precinct. I was about to slap it to make it shut up but Ian beat me to it.

"Sara. I know you don't want to get up but you're going to be busy today," he said.

"I know," I muttered into my pillow. "I'm just trying to pretend that I don't."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ian grin wickedly. Not a good sign. Uh-oh,' I thought a split second before he pounced. He wrapped both arms around my waist and hauled me off the bed, me kicking and fighting the entire time. It was useless, though; his arms were stronger than steel and I had no chance. 

"Ian!" I actually squealed. "Put me down!"

"You promise you'll get ready for work?" he teased, swinging me around as easily as though I were a rag doll.

"You drive too hard a bargain and I can't negotiate with you," I said. In response to this he started tickling me in the only place where such a feat could be attempted and endeavors succeed: my ribs. 

"Come on, give up. You know you want to," he murmured in my ear, continuing mercilessly.

"Never!" 

"Okay, then I have to keep doing this," he said.

"Quit it! Ian, stop it!" 

"Say it!"

Seeing I was going to get absolutely nowhere if I didn't give in, I said, "Fine. Uncle! I surrender!"

"And you'll get ready for work?"

"Yes, damn it, now let me go!"

Ian grinned and put me down. I punched him in the shoulder. "What was that all about?" I asked indignantly.

"I was trying to think of a way to get you out of bed and along the way I got a littlecreative."

"Creative. Hmmm." I glared at him for about half a second and then burst out laughing. 

"You'd better get ready," Ian said.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, heading for the bathroom. I showered off quickly and got dressed, then went out to say goodbye to Ian. He was back in bed, apparently asleep. 

"You hypocrite," I said, shaking my head. "Tell me to get out of bed so you can fall in it? Don't think so." Finding a pillow on the floor that had fled from ourescapade earlier the previous night, I grabbed it and flung it at his head. He jumped up and I laughed, feeling the beginning of a stitch in my side. Well, at least the man was good for my sense of humor, not to mention keeping in shape

"Just making up for waiting last night," he said.

"Sure," I replied, going over to the bed. "Well, I'm going to keep my promisealthough what I wouldn't give for today off" I kissed him goodbye and said, "Don't wear yourself out."

"I have no intention of doing sountil later tonight, at least," he said with a smile, flopping back in bed.

"Bye, Rip," I said.

"That's Mr. Van Winkle to you," he said, raising one arm in the air, index finger pointed at the ceiling, but not bothering to pull the rest of his body into an upright position.

"Right. Bye, Ian." I jogged down the stairs and out of my apartment, reaching my bike in record time. Sure, Pezzini, rush to your doom,' I thought. Today's gonna be hell.'

I sought out Connor as soon as I reached the precinct, locating him at the "coffee" machine. The homemade brew was getting steadily worse every day.

"So, where are my tapes?" I asked, not bothering with a greeting.

"Good morning, Connor. How are you? Oh, you busted your ass last night? I'm sorry. I'll be glad to help you now."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. My tapes?"

"Bad news, Pez. Irons was having maintenance done on the whole security system and all the cameras were out of commission."

"Completely?"

"Completely." 

"Damn! Someone up there hates me, because they never give me a break!" I said, glaring at the ceiling.

"Well, since we don't have any leads on this, we might as well do some paperwork."

"Great. What about Gina, though? We haven't found anything that supports finding the drugs on her desk."

"We're not finished with her yet." I eyed him skeptically. "I swear, Pez, if we can't find enough evidence to continue with Gina, we'll let her go as soon as we can."

"As we should," I reminded him.

"Hmmm. Yeah. But I still think she's the one." Connor headed into our office.

"It can't be that simple," I muttered. "Then the powers that be would actually be cutting me some slack."

We sat down to our desks piled high with stacks of folders and I decided to ask a question that had been plaguing me earlier.

"Hey Connor?"

He grunted, his nose buried in a file. 

I grinned fleetingly at his resemblance to me sometimes, then continued. "Last night when I was talking to Gina and she was telling me about what went down at Vorschlag before you brought her in, she was telling me that you were looking around on her desk and inexplicably found the drugs."

"So? That's pretty much how it happened. The bag was behind the computer monitor. What about it?"

"She made it sound like you put them there."

Connor turned white. "Wha? I mean–I didn't–that would be tampering with the scene or whatever! I would never–!"

His faltering hardly convinced me of his innocence, but I couldn't tell if guilt or shock initiated the stammers. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment and went back to my files.

"Whew! Finally done with this stack," I said, looking up briefly.

"Only four more to go," Connor said, stretching with a triumphant smile on his face. "I, however, am on my last one."

"Because you're still in the "dufus rookie" category and aren't burdened with what we experienced cops call responsibility."

"Jeez, Pez. You are great at raining on parades, you know?"

"I never said I was an optimist," I replied, shrugging.

"Hey, Pez?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you do me a favor? This file is incomplete and I don't think that anyone but Vicki could fill it in. Since you've reached a break in the never-ending pile of paper, could you run down to the morgue and ask the Queen of the Dead for the missing info?"

"Sure," I said, taking the folder. "Anything else, my lord?" I continued, taking on the air of a maid.

"Not at the moment, Sara. Thank you, though," Connor replied, sounding remarkably like Irons. 

Shaking my head, I left and headed down to the morgue. "Hey Vic! You busy?" I asked on arrival.

"Well," she said, brushing back a stray lock of hair with the back of her latex-protected hand, "I'm really supposed to be checking out this guy's bowel, butfor you, Pez, I will gladly let it wait."

"Thank God. For a minute there I was afraid you'd make me watch," I said.

"I can always use a hand," Vicki said.

"Ergh. Forget it. I see enough of that at the crime scenes and then I spend the rest of the day trying to forget the unforgettable."

"Unforgettable, that's what you are," Vicki began singing.

"Aaah!" I said, clapping my hands and the folder I held over my ears. "Anything but that!"

"Just joking, Pez. So what's up?"

I took down my hands, acting nervous, then smiled. "Rookie seems to be getting down to business. Whatever dope that started this file seems to have forgotten something and Connor was hoping you would know what it was." I put the folder on a desk in front of her. Vicki leafed through it, talking to me all the while.

"So the rookie's adjusting?"

"Pretty well. Just hope he didn't screw up in the Irons case by bagging a "suspect" prematurely."

"Really?"

I filled her in.

"So the receptionist thinks that she saw Connor plant the drugs?"

"That's what she said. I'm taking Connor's word that he didn'tfor now."

"Hmmwhat about that other case, the, uh, Thompson murder?"

"Nothing new yet. I'm beginning to wonder, though."

"About what?" Vic asked carelessly.

"About how that box found its way onto my desk."

"Fluke," she said.

"Did you see the top?" I asked.

"No, I was kind of preoccupied with what was in the box, Pez," she said, giving me a Look. 

"Well, if you had, then you would have noticed that it was addressed to me," I said.

Vicki just had to pause at that one. "Damn!"

"Yeah, I know. Which means that the killer is probably someone I know," I said.

"Yeah, how many people are gonna know specifically about Detective Pezzini, 11th Precinct? Not even lots of people on the force in the other precincts would. It's gotta be a local. Familiar face or former felon."

"Exactly." I glanced around and came a little closer, trying to ignore the formaldehyde. "If you hear anything, you know, on the sly, let me know, okay? Something like this won't stay secret for long, especially in this place," I said, voice lowered.

"Really. I'll keep an ear open," Vicki promised.

"Thanks. Did you finish the file?"

"Yeah. Here you go," she said, handing it back to me. "Some dumb-ass forgot to put in the location of the body."

"Thanks for straightening that out. Talk to you later."

"Bye, Pez," Vicki said, and I left the morgue.

I made my way back to the office and glanced in through the window on my way. Connor seemed to be having a heated conversation with someone on his cell phone. I opened the door and was greeted with a hurried, "Gotta go," and Connor hung up. 

"Was I interrupting something?" I asked, eyebrow arched.

"Nope, not at all. Just some personal shit. Now, let's get back to work."

"Aye, aye, sir," I said with a sarcastic salute, and we dove back into the sea of paper. Before I got too involved, I cast a quick glance across my desk at my busy partner. Could he possibly be involved in a girl's murder? Or tampering with evidence? I had no idea, but, as I knew all too well, appearances were deceiving.


	11. Chapter 11

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Hello, all! I am so sorry that I've been AWOL for so long, but life's been crazy what with school starting and the end of summer, etc. So, to make up for it, here's an extra-long, extra-interesting, rather gory new chapter. Before we start, I want to say in advance that, if you don't already know, this isn't going to be a happy story. Lots of blood, gore, death, psychosis, etc. And also in advance I want to say to those of you that might be homosexual and to males that happen to be named Stacey that I am not trying to offend in any way, shape, or form. I am only trying to be somewhat funny. Are you intrigued yet? Please read Chapter 11, I hope you enjoy, and don't you dare forget to review! Love you all!

~DM

Chapter 11

I had finally hacked my way through the forest—or at least what had previously been one—on my desk and was getting ready to start the final stack when my cell phone rang, shattering the silence. Connor looked like he was about to fly through the ceiling. 

"Pezzini," I replied. Connor glared at me and I shrugged.

"Hello, Sara."

"Hey, you. Whatcha up to?" I asked.

"Nothing spectacular," Ian replied. "What are your plans for lunch?"

Lunch? But it was only 10:00! I glanced at our clock almost hidden by Connor's windbreaker, moving said garment to check the time. 

It was 12:15.

"Ummmto tell you the truth, I haven't really thought about it. I thought it was still 10:00 until three seconds ago."

"I see." I could hear the smile in his voice. "You must have been hard at work."

"Yepso what were you planning?"

"To meet you somewhere if your schedule allowed it," he said.

"Sounds fine. Vague, but fine. How about—"

"—Trappetto's," we said simultaneously. I laughed. "You know me too well, Nottingham."

"It's my job to know you, Sara. As well as protect you."

"Yeah, yeah. So, Trappetto's inhalf an hour?"

"Sounds great. Bye."

"Bye, baby."

"So since when do you have a boyfriend, Pez?" Connor wanted to know.

"Who said it was a boyfriend?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. This little tweak had worked very well with Jake, so I decided to test it on Connor and see how he would take it.

"What are you talking about, Pez?" He was thoroughly confused.

"How do you know it's a guy?"

"Who's a guy?"

Man, this was going to be harder than I thought. "Whoever I'm dating."

"It just is, right?"

I gave him a borderline wicked look. "What do you think?"

"Oh, my God!" Connor pushed his rolling chair back from his desk. "Pez, you're not seriousare you? I mean, you're not" Well, that changed fast. Now he was falling all over himself!

"Not what, Connor?"

"Nototherwise inclined when it comes to dating."

I laughed at his terminology. "Aww, come on, Connor. Nice looking guy like you, haven't you wondered why I didn't make a move?"

Connor seemed stunned. He apparently had never thought of the possibility that I might not be into guys before.

"I thought it was because you don't date cops."

"Well, that's part of ithey, how'd you know that anyway? I don't think I ever told you that. In fact, I don't think we've ever talked about dating before."

"Iheard it around."

"You asked around, you mean. You were checking me out."

"Ummyeah. But thisthis is not something I expected." He was giving me a weird look.

"Connor" I sighed. My conscience told me to give up the act. It wasn't right to mess with his head like this, especially when he was a genuine rookie and not an undercover cop like Jake. Plus, it could really mess with our working relationship. Was he as much of a homophobe as Jake? "Relax, Connor. I'm not."

"Not what?"

"Otherwise inclined about dating, as you put it. Lesbian, as most other humans would put it."

"You mean you're dating a—"

"Guy? Yes, Connor."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said," I interrupted, exasperated. "I was just messing with you. I promise."

"You swear?"

"I'll swear if you want. Repeatedly, but only one of them will be the solemn promises you want. The other ones would be along the lines of damn, asshole, fu—"

"Okay, okay," Connor interrupted. I grinned but he eyed me nervously before finally relaxing.

"Do you believe me?"

"I believed you the first time, Pez."

"Well, just goes to show that you can't always believe what everyone says."

"True. So, who is this guy? What's he do?"

Hmm. Had to take this one carefully. "He's looking for a job right now, but he used to be a bodyguard."

"Whoa! Big guy, huh?"

"Yeah. I think you two would get along. He'd probably like you, tooalthough he wasn't too keen about you calling me in the middle of the night," I hinted. It wasn't a lienot exactly. It just took Ian a while to get irritated about it.

Connor obviously didn't like the idea of a "big guy" being pissed at him. "I swear I'll think it over before calling you after 10:00 PM."

"Or before 6:30 AM," I added.

"Yeah, that too. God, I still can't believe you played with my mind like that, Pez!"

"What are partners for? Not to mention training officers."

"Good question. If I get screwed over like this every day, I'll have to resign."

I smiled. "Just stay on my good side, Connor, and we won't have any problems."

I kept my eye on the clock until I had fifteen minutes before I was supposed to meet Ian and then put down my pen.

"Gotta run, Connor," I said. "Ian's probably waiting for me."

"Ian?"

"My boyfriend."

"Oh. Yeah, definitely a guy's name. Not like Stacey or somethingthat could go either way."

"Connor, from what you know about me—"

"Which isn't all that much," he interjected.

"—Okay, I'll give you that. Anyway, from what little you do know of me, do you think I would date a guy named Stacey?"

"Up until a few minutes ago I was under the impression that you didn't date guys at all!"

I glared at him. "You won't let me forget this, will you?"

He shook his head.

I sighed. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I tried that with my last partner and he fell for it, too."

"Who? Jake McCartey?"

"My past precedes me. Yes, Jake. He reacted in a similar fashionalthough I never was kind enough to tell him for certain that it wasn't true. Guess I was feeling nice today. So, answer my question."

"Hmmwell, rumor has it you like the bad-ass types, so I'll hazard a guess and say no, you wouldn't date a guy named Stacey."

"Correct."

"Who's good?" Connor asked triumphantly.

"I don't know, who?" His grin slid off his face. "Just kidding. So, Johnny, tell him what he's won!"

"What?"

"Connor, you just won all the air you can breathe for the rest of your life," I said in a cheesy announcer voice. 

Connor rolled his eyes. "Get out of my sight," he said. "I can't take any more of that. Go expose Ian to it for a while, give your poor partner a break. And remember that I want to meet this guy."

"Yeah, sure, Connor. See you in an hour or so. Hope that's enough time for you to recuperate." 

Trappetto's wasn't very far from the precinctbut then again, it seemed like nothing was far from the precinct. At any rate, I got off my Buell and entered the restaurant. 

"Hello, Tony," I said to the host as I approached the podium. 

"Ah, Sara. How have you been? I haven't seen you around here lately. It's been a while."

"Sure has. Too long. So, is anyone here waiting for me?"

"Yup. Tall guy, dark hair. Sitting in the back."

"Some things never change," I said to myself. 

"Come again?" Tony asked.

"Nothing. Not important." 

"I'll take you back there if you want," Tony offered.

"Thanks, but that's okay. I'll manage," I said, smiling.

"Sure, no prob," Tony said, running an olive hand sheepishly through jet black hair. "You probably have the floor plan memorized or something," he remarked with a twinkle in his brown eyes. 

"Something like that," I said, smiling. "See you later."

"Don't be a stranger, Sara."

"Don't worry. I have no intention to be." And with that final note I headed back to the back.

"Hey."

"Hello."

"How's it going?"

"Excellent, now that you're here."

"You're learning well, Nottingham," I said with a grin and slid into the booth and looked at him across the table. He was wearing his famous black coat still, a habit he refused to break, but had a dark green sweater and indigo jeans on beneath it. At least he'd lost the gloves.

"I have been told that I have always been an apt pupil."

"Tell me about it," I said, thinking back to my own experience with his fast learning in the bedroom. "So, what looks good to you?"

"I haven't decided yet. Give me a minute."

***

I knocked once on the door to Pez and Connor's office and was notified that I could enter by a grunt from inside.

"Hey, Connor," I said.

"Yo, Vic. What's going on?"

"Got some autopsy results here."

Connor sighed. "Just put them on top of the stack here with the rest of these," he said. I did so and was about to leave when I thought of what Pez and I had been talking about earlier.

"Hey, Connor?" I asked.

"Hmmm?"

"Mind if I sit down for a minute? I've got something to say."

"Sure. Pez's on lunch break. Lucky her. So what's this about?"

"You know the case that's got Pez really freaked out?"

"Yeah. The Thompson murder? The head one?"

"That would be it. Well, Pez's got some kind of conspiracy theory or something."

"What do you mean?"

"Has she not told you about it?"

"No. Go ahead," he said.

I paused for a moment. If Pez hadn't told him herself, did that mean that she considered him a suspect? Connor was staring at me by that point and I decided to tell him about it. It was eating away at me to tell him, staying constant with the symptoms of a good secret: it aches to be told. It takes a person with strong character to keep one of those secretsand unfortunately I wasn't one of those lucky few.

"Well, since the box ended up on her desk, it's really startled her. Maybe she feels responsible or something, but I know she's dying—pardon the pun—to find out who did this. She's convinced the killer's gonna go serial, and she thinks that" I trailed off.

"That?"

"That the killer is someone she knows."

Connor didn't say anything for several minutes. 

"So what does that mean?" he asked finally.

"Don't know. She's thinking it's someone in this precinct to start off with. Not many people know her by name outside of the police force. Except maybe the criminal circuit, I guess, but this MO is completely different from what we've seen for as long as either Pez or I can remember. All she knows is that it's a local, and I personally think, and have probably convinced Pez into thinking, that the killer's a man. Those cuts just screamed man to me."

"So Sara thinks she knows the killer." It wasn't a question.

"That's what she told me. She was trying not to act like it, but I think she's pretty worried. Don't tell her I told you, though. If she tells you about it, act surprised. I don't think I was supposed to tell you to begin with."

"Don't worry about it, Vic. I can act."

"Okay," I said. "I've gotta get back. Got loads of work to do, and none of it is particularly appetizing."

"Great," he said. "Hey, Vic?"

"Hey, Connor?"

"Do you think I should talk to the Captain about this?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Pez may want to herself."

"I'll tell him to act surprised, too," he said. 

"WellI don't think that would be the best idea on the planet, butyou do what you want. Just remember that there's nothing I can do to protect you from Pez's wrath if you piss her off."

"Yeah, well, I don't think anything short of an intervention from the powers that be could do that."

"True. Well, better be heading back to my lair. See you later, Connor."

"Bye, Vic."

I headed back down to the morgue, wondering all the way whether or not I had done something really dumb. 

***

I leaned back in my chair, unable to concentrate on the files in front of me. I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration and thought about what Vicki had said. I wondered if Sara considered me a suspect? Even though I hadn't known her for very long, her reputation as a great detective, albeit a paranoid and at times pugnacious one, was pretty much a consensus now that the White Bulls were out of the department. I lingered in my chair for a few more minutes before making my decision to go and see Laredo.

I left my office and went to Laredo's, knocking quietly.

"Come in!" he barked. I entered and approached his desk, letting him finish whatever paperwork occupied him. He finally looked up at me and smiled.

"Connor! How is everything going with you?"

"Sir?"

"With Pezzini. Is she a tough taskmaster?"

"In some ways. She's a great detective."

"She certainly is. She teaching you well?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good to hear it. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Well, sir, I've heard some talk about a case of ours and I thought you should know about it."

"A case of yours and Pezzini's?"

"Yes, sir. The Thompson murder."

"The one with the head deficiency until recently?"

"Yes, sir. Well, Sara seems convinced that the culprit is someone, as she put it, "local."

"Well, it would have to be, wouldn't it? The person would have to be in New York to have done it!"

"That'snot exactly what I meant, sir. I believe she thinks that the killer is someone on the force."

Laredo started at that information. "Really? Does she have a suspect?"

"She hasn't told me if she does."

"Well, thank you for this information. I'm just curious as to why Sara didn't tell me this herself and why she sent you."

"Well, that's the other thing. She didn't send me. And she didn't even really tell me. She told Vicki Po."

"I see. So she doesn't even know you know?"

"No, sir. She was probably going to tell you soon, and probably will. So if she does, would you mind acting like you don't know?"

Laredo chuckled. "Don't want to get in trouble with your training officer, eh? Well, I'll keep your secret, Connor. I'm glad that you trust me enough."

"You have every right to know."

"Yeswell. Why aren't you on your lunch break? I'm about ready to go on mine."

"I'm waiting for Pez to get back. One of us has to do the paperwork."

"I see. Well, thank you, Connor. You're holding your own weight. Good for you. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir, for listening. I appreciate it."

"No, no, son. Thank you for letting me know." 

I nodded and left, heading back to the office I shared with Sara, pondering on the way over about when, or if, we would hear from our killer. 

***

__

She knows it's me, she knows it's me, she knows it's meon into infinity. She's on to me. I thought_. Well, just gotta calm down. Watch yourself. Don't get too cockybut I've gotta send a message. One they won't forgetStupid bitch made me clean the house every day while she sat on her fat ass doing nothingwell I sure showed her, didn't I. She never even saw it coming. One quick slash and it was all over. But the fun had just begun. I really enjoyed tearing her apartthe bitch had had it coming to her. Went around the town with whoever'd take her. Didn't matter if he was married, half-drunk, she liked them all. And she expected me to respect her after all that? Ha. I turned the ceiling red with all I did to her. The cops practically cried at my fake shock. I didn't speak for three days just to make it seem genuine_

Damn, I'm pissed off now. And bored, really bored. Gotta find something to do. Church. Hmmm. Don't pray, but there could be something in there to do. Damn, this is a small building. Not many rooms in this little white hallway. Fluorescent light glareaww shit. Hey, there's a gym! A gym in a church? Cool. Could be something interesting. Have I got my bag with me? Oh, yeah. It's a backpack right now. Heh heh. Well, might as well get to workholy crap! Thatthat looks just like her. Same little bitch smirk. Too bad she's busycan't let her see me. Wait, the guy's leaving. Good.

"Bye, Tom."

__

She's even got the bitch's voice. Well, not for long. Grab a basketball, act like you're supposed to be here.

"Hi there. Do I know you?"

"I don't think so. I'm new around here." For once it wasn't a lie. I hadn't been around here long.

"I'm Paula. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Bill." Innocuous, bland, normal. In other words, perfect.

"So, why are you here? Oops, stupid question. Basketball, right?"

"Well, not exactly. I was actually hoping to meet someone like you." _More than you'll realize._

"Cool. So what do you want to do?"

I scanned the area. _Where would the best place to do this be?_ "Hey, what's this over here?" I asked suddenly.

"What do you mean? That's just the bleachers or whatever."

"It looks like there's something under here. Come on, let's look."

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah. There's definitely something down there." I ushered her in front of me and reached into my pocket slowly. My rage was building. I smiled wickedly. This one was going to be fun

"What are you talking about? There's nothing under here but dust. What did you mean? What did you see, Bill?" Paula asked, turning around. 

"This," I said, plunging the ice pick concealed in my right hand into her forehead right above the bridge of her nose. I avoided the blood spurt and relished the shocked expression on her face. I whipped out my trusty knife, which was more efficient than the razorblade I had used last time, and started sawing her head off. I knew she wasn't quite dead yet, so it made me enjoy it even more. This time the blood was unavoidable butoh well, you can't have everything. That was why I always carried an extra set of clothes and a towel in my backpack. And since I had the attention of the police, I decided to really put on a show with this one. After I had the head off, I decided that I'd play with the cops a little this time and started on the right legif I played my cards right even the cops with the strongest stomachs would be puking all over themselves when I was through. And that thought made it all worthwhileand made my face stretch into a grin.

***

After a great lunch of Chicken Parmesan over angel hair pasta (for me) and Fettuccini Alfredo for Ian, we were arguing over who was going to pay the check.

"Sara, I will cover it."

"Forget it, mister. I am paying."

"Are not."

"Am too."

"No you won't."

"Watch me."

Just then my cell phone rang. As I fished through my jacket to find my phone, answering on the third ring, I grimaced as Ian put the cash in the tray and handed it to the waiter, giving me a smug grin. I sighed. Better luck next time.

"Pezzini," I answered the phone

"Hey Pez."

"Connor. What's up? How are you doing with the paperwork, and why haven't you taken your break yet?"

"I was going to wait for you. I've made some real progress, butthat's not the point. Pez, we've got a problem."

"What?"

"You know the Thompson case?"

"Yeah, of course I do. There was a head in a box on my desk, you think I could forget that or something? Where are you going with this?"

"Well, we've got a follow-up."

"Great. So what's the deal?"

"It'snot that kind of follow-up."

"What are you talking about, rookie? Untie your tongue and tell me."

"We've got another one, Pez. Our killer just went serial."


	12. Chapter 12

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Life's still crazy, and will probably be so for a while. I think I'm catching up on all the homework I didn't have last year. The teachers are really piling it on. Anyway, here's a nice long Chapter 12. 13'll be interesting, to say the least) I know, evil DM. Well, read and if you don't review I will hunt you down and sic the serial killer on you—well, not really. I don't want to kill my readers. Then how would I get reviews? Hehehewell, enjoy this latest installment and let me know what you think! Thanks!  
  
~DM

Chapter 12

"Are you sure it's wise for me to be here?" Ian asked for the thousandth time as we pulled up to the building in his car. I was driving, although neither of us were sure that that was the best arrangement. 

"It's fine. Just don't cross any yellow tape. Connor wants to meet you anyway. Are you sure this is the right address?" I asked him, and he glanced down to the napkin held in his hand. I'd scribbled it down before we left Trappetto's. 

"Is that an 8 or 9?" he asked, pointing. "Your handwriting is atrocious."

I followed his finger. "I was in a hurry, as if you didn't know. And that's an 8."

"Okay. So it's 948 Valley Drive." He glanced around. "Yes, this is it."

"Damn," I said. "Not even churches are sacred anymore."

Our crime scene was the First Episcopal Church, one of the older ones in town. One of the large wooden doors opened and I spotted Connor coming out. Ian and I got out of the car and met him on the stoop.

"Hey, Pez. Glad you're here. Who's your friend?"

"Marcus Connor, meet Ian Nottingham," I said. "He's my mysterious boyfriend. I kinda had to borrow his car, so he came along," I clarified, because he was clearly thinking, Why is she bringing her boyfriend to a crime scene?'

"Nice to meet you, Ian," Connor said after he had been filled in. He eagerly shook hands with Ian, who was obviously surprised by Connor's immediate acceptance of him. Ian threw a quick glance to me and I nodded.

"The feeling is mutual, Detective," Ian replied. "Sara speaks highly of you."

"Please, call me Connor. Detective sounds too formal, and one of the reasons I became a cop was to have people call my by my last name. Marcusdon't know what my parents were thinking."

The three of us chuckled. Connor's face sobered quickly. "Well, enough of the cheer. Better get you in there, Pez, so you can see what's happened." Connor and I walked side by side down the hall, with Ian a step behind us.

"It's clearly the same killermore of the decapitation stuff. But it seems like this time he or she was really pissed off." 

"More so than usual," I commented.

We reached the gym and entered. The space underneath the bleachers was the only part roped off by the crime scene tape. Connor and I headed over to where the body was while Ian waited in the main gym beneath the basketball goal. He started talking to two people that I only saw through the corner of my eye. Connor handed me a pair of latex gloves and I put them on, turning to look at the crime scene. I froze, eyes wide.

It looked like the body was a cadaver in an anatomy lab from the way it was displayed. I approached it cautiously. The abdominal cavity was opened and the woman's entrails were hanging out. It was clear that some organs were missing. I gritted my teeth and continued my analysis. The flaps of skin were secured to the floor with hand-made pins, almost like T-pins, probably made out of bent paper clips. I shuddered at the thought of someone sitting around, casually making paper clip T-pins while sitting in their living room watching TV. What a maniac.

The woman had been decapitated, as Connor had said, but the head was with its body this time. There was also a large, bloody hole above the bridge of her nose, indicating she'd been stabbed there with something. I couldn't guess as to what it was. Screwdriver, maybe? I wasn't sure, but the look of surprise, shock, and fear on her face made my stomach clench.

"Forensics is getting ready to take the body down to Vic," Connor said. I had temporarily forgotten that he was even there. 

I reached out a latex-encased finger to the woman's face to close her open blue eyes and was instantly assailed with a vision from the Witchblade. Of course I had been dumb enough to use my right hand

__

The girl, alive, talking to a man, whose face is hidden.

The man gesturing to the bleachers and following her in.

The girl turning around and getting stabbed in the forehead with an ice pick.

The man cutting off her head.

I jumped back from the body, unable to take any more. So it had been an ice pick that did the deed.

"Pez? You okay?" Connor asked. I was breathing extremely heavily, and I had to remind myself that he didn't know about the Witchblade. 

"As okay as I can be after seeing this."

A couple of forensics guys came in with a stretcher and picked up the body. But when they maneuvered themselves to lower the body onto the gurney, the man holding her legs gasped.

Apparently the legs weren't attached any more.

The killer had cut off the girl's legs and switched them, putting the left one on the right side and vice versa, but no one had caught it because the corpse was still wearing shorts although it was nude from the waist up. It was probably all a big joke to this psycho. Moving away from the gurney, I walked around under the bleachers, seeing if I could find anything clue wise. My search wasn't fruitless.

"Connor! Come over here!"

Connor jogged up. "What did you find, Pez?"

"Look."

He looked.

Written in the thick layer of dust on the floor, accompanied by footprints, was the message:

__

Are you having fun yet, NYPD? I hope so. Especially you, Sara. I know how you love this kind of thing. Catch me if you can. Or if you dare.

--Bill Craneno known relation to Ichabod, but you never can tell

I was stunned, and the use of my name in this psycho's note made me angry. I turned to my partner.

"Connor, we've got to catch this bastard. I won't let him get away with this. He's getting cocky now, so maybe he'll slip up."

As if on cue, Al stuck his head under the bleachers.

"Hey, Al."

"Pez, you'd better get out here. Someone wants to talk to you."

"Who?"

"We've got a couple of witnesses that are asking for you."

Connor and I exchanged looks. Seemed like we found our slip-up.

I started to go out to see Al but stopped to gesture to Connor to stay put.

"Can I get someone out there to come trace these footprints?" I asked. One of the women on the forensics team grabbed a piece of tracing paper and a pencil and came up to me. "Detective Connor will tell you what to trace," I said. She went in, avoiding the body and turning green, and met up with Connor. He gave me the thumbs-up and I returned to my course to find Al, who was standing on the basketball court. He wasn't aloneIan was there with him, standing with those two other people I'd glancewho happened to be extremely familiar.

"Raven? Jackson?"

Jackson Miller, former head Speaker and current love interest of Raven Cole, who also happened to be present, stood before me. 

"Hey, Sara," Jackson said.

"Yo," Raven added with one of her typical sarcastic grins.

"What the hell are you two doing here? Tell me you weren't going vigilante on me."

"We weren't. Call it a bad time to show interest in religion," Jackson said with a sheepish grin.

"And naturally he had to drag me into it," Raven added.

"So what did you see?" I asked.

"Well, we came here to shoot some hoops and I found a basketball and we went to work. Suddenly this guy ran out from under the bleachers, over there—" He pointed to the other end of the bleachers, near another set of double doors, "—and took off."

"I tried to follow him but he was long gone by the time I made it across the gym," Raven said. 

"Could you provide a description?"

"Maybe. He was kind of far away and he was hell bent on getting out of here. I can try at least."

"What about you, Raven?" I asked.

"Maybe height, weight, hair color. That's about it. Neither of us saw his face."

I sighed. "So what happened after that?"

"I thought it was kind of weird that someone was under the bleachers, so I put down the basketball and Raven and I looked under the bleachers. That's when we saw heror what's left of her."

"Did you touch anything?" I asked.

"Of course not, Sara."

"Think about our backgrounds for a split second before you ask us that next time," Raven teased.

True. They would know better than thatespecially since they had been on the wrong side of the law before and knew that accidental self-incrimination was just plain dumb.

"Yeah. Sorry. So what then?"

"I found a pay phone in the hall out there and called the cops, and we waited around for them to get here. That's it," Jackson replied.

"I see. Okay, we'll need you to talk to you a little more. Al here knows what to do, so trust him. Give him some physical descriptions of the guy and whatever else you can think of. I've gotta go. Just hope it helps."

"I have every confidence that you will solve this case, Sara," Jackson said.

"Goes double for me," Raven added.

"Thanks. I wish I did. Bye, you two."

"See ya, Sara," he said.

"Later," Raven replied. Ian and I left the pair and headed for the exit.

"Hey Connor?" I called.

"Yeah, Pez?"

"I'm going back to the precinct. I'll probably just stew over paperwork and see if I can find some more similarities between these murders. You think you can handle this?"

"I'm good, Pez. We traced a couple of the footprints and we'll see what we come up with."

"Keep up the good work, rookie. I'll see you back at the 11th."

"See ya, Pez."

"Wonderful," I said as Ian and I went back to the car. "Just spectacular."

"I'd better drive," Ian said, gently taking the keys.

"Sure. I need to think anyway."

After we'd been underway for a few minutes, Ian spoke up. "I'm sorry about this, Sara."

"Me too. Sometimes I really hate this job."

"Jackson was right, though, Sara. You will solve this. You seem to take serial cases like this personally and once it's personal, there's nothing that will stop you. Trust me, I've seen you at it." He smiled slightly. "The clues will eventually fall into place."

"True," I said. "At the first murder, there wasn't a shred of evidence, DNA or otherwise, except all the victim's blood, not to mention my present. But nowhe must know we're closing in slowly but surely. He seemed harried to start with and Jackson and Raven being there surely didn't help him any. He'd probably just finished with the victim when they got there because he had time to gather all his stuff together and run out. Now we've got footprints to work with, we know for sure that it's a man, and maybe we'll get lucky and find some fingerprints on something."

"I wouldn't count on that, Sara. His only prints would probably be on his own supplies that he used for killing her. If he had any semblance of criminal logic he'd wear gloves when he was setting her up like he was."

"Good point." I had to remember who I was talking to. Why was Mac my only friend not wanted by some organization?

Ian pulled into Trappetto's lot and I opened my door.

"You sure you're okay? You seem a little pale."

"Vision. Got the highlights of the killing but this damned thing won't let me see the guy's face! It's really pissing me off. But I'll be fine. I'll call you if anything comes up, okay?"

"All right," he said reluctantly. "I'll see you tonight."

"Bye, baby."

"Bye."

My thoughts were a huge jumble as I got on my Buell, waved a final goodbye to Ian, and streaked off towards the precinct. I was trying to narrow down a suspect list in my head and my paranoia wasn't helping me at all. I parked in my usual space right by the door of the precinct, still milling things over in my mind, and went to my office, falling into my desk chair and trying to concentrate on the paperwork I had left. Connor hadn't gotten back yet, so I opened a file and flipped through it, signing off in several places and putting it on the top of the stack with the others.

it's gonna be one long day," I thought.

***

I flipped through the files that had been brought to me and put on Father's desk. Most of them held no interest for me, since they had to do with the innermost financial workings of Vorschlagthat's what accountants were for. What captured my attention was the series of repetitive references to one "Witchblade." Something with a name like that was hard to ignore. Many photographs were in that one bulky folder with the heading _Witchblade_ on it, most of them pieces of art in Father's collection that could bear further scrutiny. I then came across a photo of a gauntlet and another of a dainty bracelet, both labeled with the letters _WB_. 

Interesting,' I thought. These must be forms of my new little friend.' The clincher was a snapshot of a woman, obviously candid from her expression, labeled _Sara Pezzini_. She seemed familiar and I thought about her for a moment until I remembered.

*_"Ms. Avilla, what happened this morning is very much our business. I'm Detective Pezzini and this is my partner Detective Connor. We're with the NYPD, Homicide. Mr. Irons was found dead in his office about half an hour ago."_*

So that meddling, impertinent detective was the Wielder of the Witchblade. Howinteresting. I finished with that folder and came to another one labeled _Nottingham._ Opening it, I came face to face with a highly handsome specimen. Written in red ink at the bottom of this photo was _Security threat; history of disloyalty on part of the Wielder._ Hmmm. Ian Nottingham. I believe I just found the Wielder's weakest link. Now how can I use that to my advantage?" I grinned wickedly. That shouldn't be too hard.'

***

I was lost in a sea of reports when a timid knock came at my door.

"It's open," I said. Expecting Connor, I looked up to instead see Gina Ramirez standing in my doorway.

"Gina! Have they finally let you out?"

"Yes. It seems that they decided that there was nothing they could actually pin on me. Took them long enough."

"Well, I'm glad. Sorry it took so long, though. We may not know who killed Irons for a while, if things keep going the way they are now. Guess it's another unsolved mystery."

"Can I tell you something?"

This caught my attention. "Sure. Fire away."

"Personally, I don't care if they ever find out why he died. Irons was a bastard and the only reason I stayed there was because I needed the cash and I couldn't find a job anywhere else. I just hope it's there when I get back."

"I bet it is. And if it isn't, we could probably find you something here without a whole lot of trouble if you really need the work."

"Thanks, but no thanks. This place gives me the creeps. Don't know how you work here."

"Same way you work at Vorschlag and stay sane." I smiled. "Keep in touch, Gina."

"I will, Sara. I appreciate your help. If you need any help where Vorschlag is concerned in the future, let me know and I'll see what I can do."

"Sure thing. Thanks, Gina."

"Bye, Sara."

So now I had an operative inside Vorschlaghow interesting. Could definitely come in handyperhaps a visit to Ms. Avilla was in order. I was convinced that she had something to do with Irons's death, considering the fact that the day she crawled out of the woodwork Irons died and she got everything. Too much of a coincidence, even in my Witchblade-affected mind. Wonder if an arrest warrant is too forward a housewarming gift?' 


	13. Chapter 13

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Yes, I know, my posts are becoming few and far between, but they're longer than they used to be! That's all I can say in my defense, except I'm being slowly killed by high school. I've got so much homework to doand it's a long weekend! Oh, well. I'll survivebut some of the characters (most of whom I don't own) might not. Anyway, won't say any more than that. I'm so proudI worked a disclaimer into my author's note! ;) And I just have to say one more thing before I shut up and let you read Chapter 13. I just want to apologize in advance for anything that anyone might find offensive, such as references to names being stupid, etc. I haven't gotten any flames but I don't want to and, of course, these statements are simply my opinions. There, don't have to apologize for a while. Enjoy, and don't you dare forget to review! Or I'll delay my posts intentionally and just make your lives miserable like that. *blushes* Well, probably not. Love ya!

~DM

Chapter 13

"Number C14!" 

One of the clerks at the unemployment office announced numbers in what seemed to be hourly increments but in actuality they were probably periods of five to ten minutes. 

I glanced down at the slip of paper in my hand and sighed. 

C15. That was my number today, so I would be nexthopefully. Last time I had been cut off because it had been closing time and I had only been three people away. I hoped that this experience wouldn't repeat itself. I was determined that I wasn't going to be a freeloader on Sara, so in order to avoid this, employment was the natural choice. I closed my copy of _Phantom of the Opera_ by Gaston Leroux and stood up when another clerk said "Number C15."

I stood up and stowed my book away in one of the large pockets of my coat and sat in the chair in the front of her desk. 

"All right, Mr., umNottingham. How can I, like, help you?"

Oh, God. Must not strangle Valley girl. Ian, you've moved past that now,' I thought. 

I bit back my retort, "I need a JOB, damn it!" and said instead, "My previous employer and I had a falling out and I need to find a position elsewhere."

"Oh. So what are your, you know, um, those things"

"Credentials?" I supplied.

"Yeah! Those," she said, grinning. "I knew I'd think of it."

God help me.' Aloud I said, "Well, if I tell you, I'll have to kill you." 

I actually wasn't trying to make a joke, nor did my demeanor suggest such, but Barbie cracked up, making a shrill sound similar to that produced by hyenas. "You are, like, so funny, Mr. Nottingham. Now, really, what are your credentials?"

"I already told you. If you were to discover them, I would have to end your life, and I would not relish the task." Well, the last part was a lie, but

Barbie's eyes widened and she stared at me. Her hand crawled over to the phone on the side of her desk and she hit one button. "Hey, Pete? It's Cheryl. Um, yeahcan you take this one?"

Several minutes later I was sitting in front of a different, albeit identical desk, but this time I stared across the aforementioned furniture at a young man of about 30 with black hair and blue eyes, whose name was Pete Nelson. He was the one from the conversation I had overheard when speaking with Barb—Cheryl. He seemed pleasant, although slightly severe, but his blue eyes lit up after I told him of my exchange with Cheryl. 

"Way to go, sir. She's really annoying, and I always get stuck with people who get fed up with her. I wish everyone around here could pull his or her own weight. But enough about me. You're looking for a job in what field?"

"I was a bodyguard ever since I" I trailed off. "Was a child" wouldn't be a good way to finish that sentence. "Was old enough to work," I finished. 

"I see." Pete searched the archives or whatever program was on his computer and made a sound. "Well, there's several openings, one being at Vorschlag Industries."

Well, I couldn't say I was expecting that. "That's the position I just vacated."

"Who did you work for?"

"Kenneth Irons."

Pete grimaced. I nodded. "Well, Adair Avilla is asking for a bodyguard. Do you know her?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Apparently she is Kenneth Irons's daughter, although I have never laid eyes on her. And I worked at Vorschlag for quite some time."

"Evidently she just emerged from the woodworksomething about her mother's death?" Pete said.

I nodded. "I heard something similar to that. I don't know what it's all about, though."

"Well, do you think you'd like to check it out? See if she's different than Kenny?" he asked.

"That sounds like a good idea. But in case that position doesn't work out, are there any other openings?"

"Yeah, there are two other possible positions." He handed me three business cards, one bearing the all-too-familiar logo of Vorschlag on its front. "Check out those other ones if Vorschlag doesn't appeal to you. Should I call Vorschlag and set up an appointment with Ms. Avilla?"

"I don't see why not. Thank you." There wasn't really any point in objecting. It would be interesting to meet this woman—not pleasant, but certainly interesting. I sat and waited while Pete talked with the receptionist and then hung up the phone three minutes and twenty-eight seconds after placing the call.

"Ms. Avilla will be expecting you at 9:30 tomorrow morning, Mr. Nottingham."

I nodded and stood to leave. Pete rose as well and we shook hands. 

"Thank you very much for your help" I trailed off, not knowing what to call him.

"Pete," he supplied with a smile. "Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Nottingham. I hope I was able to help."

"I hope so, too. I just hope I don't have to come back," I said with a small smile. Pete chuckled and I left the unemployment agency feeling slightly more securebut I wasn't exactly looking forward to the next morning.

***

Adair Avilla had been right about that Nottingham guy. He seemed nice enough or whatever, but he was just on this side of scary. He must have been pretty desperate to have to come here, toohe just didn't seem like the type to have to ask for help. I wasn't sure why she had called here making sure that I helped him get an appointment to see her, butwho can fathom the minds of the newly rich and relatively famous, in Adair's case. She was one screwed-up chick from all I had heard about her, but hey, a whole ten grand just for setting this up? What guy in his right mind would say no? Certainly not Pete Nelson.

***

I was preoccupied with all the paper I was pushing when Connor suddenly reappeared in the office.

"Hey," he said, sitting down. I merely grunted in response to the sound.

"Pez?"

I looked up. "Oh, hey Connor. Sorryjust got a little preoccupied by all this. How's the new case coming?"

Connor grimaced. "Not too well. Vicki's working on it. Priority, too. Probably won't take too long considering there didn't seem to be too much left to examine."

I frowned. "I really didn't need to hear that, rookie."

"When do you ever? Oh, and this came for you. It was up front." Connor handed me a long, narrow white box, almost like the ones that held flowers, that was marked "Detective Pezzini." I took the box from him and flipped it over while searching for my letter opener to cut the tape binding it. As I glanced at the bottom, I noticed a card taped to it and removed it first. Scrawled on the inside of the plain white card in permanent marker were the words:

__

Guess she won't need this anymore.

--BC

Fearing the worst, I carefully opened the box. My fears were justified, because Connor and I were face to face with a two-foot long section of what appeared to be large intestine.

"Oh, shit."

"Damn," Connor said. "This guy's sick."

"And getting sicker. So what now?"

"Knock, knock." 

It was Vicki, still in mortician mode major.

"Who's there?" Connor asked tiredly.

"Bowel," I injected.

Vicki looked at me strangely. "Bowel who?" she asked, a legitimate question.

"Bowel in a box on my desk. Apparently our killer keeps thinking he's an organ donorthey're just not his organs."

Vic took one look at the box and shook her head sadly, rubbing her temples. "Jesus H. Christ. Well, at least we found part of it."

"Part of it?" Connor asked, turning a lovely seafoam green.

"Yup. The rest is still missing."

"Spectacular," I groaned.

"I can tell you what's going on if you'll accompany me to my lair," she said, doing a bad Dracula impression while saying that last part. She was trying to lighten the mood but she failed. Miserably. Connor and I got up without a sound and followed Vicki down to the morgue. 

When we arrived down there, slowly acclimating to the distinctive smell of formaldehyde as we stood there, and Vicki pulled the sheet back off of the body and its head.

"The victim's name was Paula Bonner. She was 25 years old and was a young accountant. She seems to be one of the last people to be killed like this and was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"What do you think about our friend J.R.?"

"J.R.?" Connor asked.

"Jack the Ripper. Our killer seems to really admire the guy," I remarked.

"Well, evidently he's getting angrier as he goes along," Vic began. "He's taking more and more body parts with him as souvenirs of his handiwork, and that's just the beginning of the creepiness."

"Cause of death?" I asked as I slowly circled the examining table.

"Well, it was hard to tell considering the amount of damage done—" I winced at this, "—but I think it was this here." She pointed to a hole in the woman's forehead right above the bridge of her nose. "I think this was done by an ice pick, and it penetrated in one blow. Which means?"

"Male killer," I replied. "Very few women would have enough force to send it straight through with one try."

Vicki nodded. "That's the most logical theory, at least."

"And our witnesses said that it was a man running away from the scene. So what did the ice pick do?" Connor asked.

"Well, basically it scrambled her brains on impact. Like a lobotomy, I guess, or something. There was some stuff leaking out of the wound earlier, must have been what was left of her gray matter, but—"

"Okay, okay, that's plenty on that subject," Connor said. "What else?"

"Well, that's not all the damage done to the head. The tongue has been torn out, rather viciously I would have to add, and ears have been sliced off. Can we say Van Gogh?"

I chuckled slightly at this but quickly refocused. No doubt that would be what I'd get next in the mail.

"Then we get to the damage of the rest of the body. He focused on the abdomen and basically nowhere elseother than the head. The large intestine has been completely removed, but you already knew that. The right kidney's gone, too, and the liver's in terrible shapeit's been quartered, and rather badly at that. But the interesting part is the pancreas."

"The pancreas?" Connor and I asked simultaneously, incredulous. Not exactly the first organ that would come to mind when Vicki was explaining something like this, so our attention was piqued.

"Yeah. Our killer must have had some time on his hands, because he removed the pancreas, turned it inside out, and then sewed it back together. It's weird"

"Well, that's not something that we hear very often," I joked. "Nothing's ever weird around here."

"Figures. It's one of your cases," Vicki said.

I rolled my eyes. Not that again. "Have we contacted the family?" I wanted to know.

"Yup, it's already been taken care of. I took some time to do that after we wrapped up the crime scene. They'd already identified her body and I was in the area so I went ahead. I'm glad you weren't there, Sarait hurt to see the parents, but I'll tell you more about that later. Thanks for the briefing, Vic."

"Sure thing. I'll send the report up a little later. Justtry to forget about this for a while."

"See ya, Vic," I said, and Connor and I headed back up to the office.

"You're seriously lucky to have missed it, Pez. Mr. Bonner was trying to be strong for his wife but Mrs. Bonner just broke down. She just simply didn't want to believe that it was her daughter lying on a slab at the morgue. And there were two or three younger siblings hanging around bawling, too. Thank God Al went with me or I probably wouldn't have made it."

"No parent ever wants to believe something like that. It's a very common tale and I've been witness to many of those conversations. And this won't be the last one you experience in your career, either, rookie."

"Hey, I thought we were past the whole rookie thing!" he said.

"Well, you thought wrong. Now let's get back to work. I need to get my mind off of this and I'm sure you do, too." By this time we'd made it back to the office and we sat down at our respective desks, preparing to drown ourselves in paperwork until we could escape from the horrors of the day.


	14. Chapter 14

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Yes, I still am alive, folks. Sorry to drop off the face of the earth like I do, but I'm still here. The least you can do is give me reviews! You're doing bettergot 6 or 7 for my last chapter, butanyway. That isn't enough! I need more! The addict loves her reviewsor something. Anyway, hope you're enjoying the story. Next up, a visit from everyone's favorite ghost. And no, I'm not talking about Casper. *shudders* Anywayon with Chapter 14! Review! Don't forget! Love you all!

~DM

Chapter 14

I left the precinct as eagerly as would a child escaping from that prison known as school at the close of a seemingly endless day. Not quite ready to head home, not wanting to see Ian in such a strange mood, I pointed my motorcycle toward Gabe's place. I parked in the alley upon arrival and took off my helmet, shaking my hair out as was customary.

"I really shouldn't have gotten out of bed today," I announced to the air.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," a voice said. I turned around and came face to face with Danny. Even though he had done that for quite some time now, I couldn't help jumping. "You can't sleep all the timealthough I wouldn't blame you for wanting to, considering who you're sleeping with."

"Danny!" I said indignantly.

"Sorry. Just had to get that outdo you really blame me?"

"Guess not. But you scared me! Again."

"Yeah, well, sorry. Afterlife prank. We love sneaking up on the living." He grinned.

"Hmm. Like I haven't noticed. Have you heard about the case I've been working on lately?"

"Yeah. I've talked to the girls."

"Paula and Maria?"

"Yeah. They think I'm cool because I've been on the dead side for a while. They tell me things. I think they've got crushes on me"

I smirked at that. Danny getting hit on by two dead chicks"Can you—or they—help me find who killed them?"

"We'd all love to, but—"

"I know, I know. Rules. You can't divulge the secrets of the dead."

"Well, partly. If they had actually been able to tell me anything really useful, I still couldn't tell you. But they didn't have much helpful info. Neither of them had ever seen the guy before and he killed them so fast they didn't have a good description. Paula's brain was scrambled in a few seconds, but she still felt the knife slice most of the way through her neck. Maria wasn't that luckyshe was alive for most of her beheading."

I winced. "Not stuff I like to hear, Danny. Definitely not why I want to talk to you. So they don't have any physical info?"

"WeeeellI didn't say they couldn't come up with anything, just not a lot."

"Want to share with the class?"

"All they could tell me—and they both agreed on this—was that the killer had blue eyes. I know, that could be anyone. Sorry. I could keep trying, but I doubt that we'll get any further."

"Well, thanks anyway, Danny. Hey, have you seen Ian lately?"

"Yeah. I can't call him Goth Guy anymorehe's not wearing as much black. Oh, by the way, did you know that "Goth" was taken from the name of one of several Germanic tribes that wore black, either had light faces or painted their faces white—I don't remember which—and contributed to the fall of the western Roman Empire in 476 AD?"

"No, I can honestly say I didn't know that. How do you know that? Surely you didn't talk to any of themdid you swallow a textbook or something?"

Danny laughed. "Something like that. I think Ian's on his way back to your place or somethinghe seems to be getting closer to over there."

"Traffic a bitch or something?" I asked.

"Maybe. Better not linger at young Gabriel's," he said with the air of a father. "Ian'll be wanting to see you. Well, I've gotta jet, but I'll try to remember to pop in from time to time."

"You do thatand make your presence known without scaring the crap out of me. I'm glad you showed up today; I haven't seen you in a while. I really miss you, partner."

"Not nearly as much as I miss you. And coffee."

"Which do you miss more?"

"You wouldn't believe my answer."

"You miss coffee more than me?!"

"Of course not. I miss you more than coffee."

"No way."

"See, told you that you wouldn't believe me. See ya, Pez. Take care of yourselfand don't kill anyone I wouldn't kill."

"Bye, Danny," I said as he vanished. I sighed and continued into Gabe's building.

This time the music of choice that was assailing my ears all the way up the stairs and continuing as I opened the door to Talismaniac.com was "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. 

"Gabe!" I yelled.

"Hey, Chief," Gabe responded at an equal volume when he appeared in the room. He reached over to his stereo and turned down the song as it reached its catchy ostinato.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Just wondering how the get-together we're planning is going."

"Oh, that. I called R and J and they said that anytime was fine. In fact, would tomorrow night be good? No one has any plans as far as I know."

"I'm not sure. Probably. I'll call Ian and see if it'll work out." I scanned the inside of the shop, which was cluttered with lots of large boxes. "Did you get some new stuff in, Gabe?"

"Oh, yeah!" he said, rushing excitedly over to a small collection of amulets. "These are supposed to be ancient Babylonian," he said, gesturing at the bronze and silver amulets. "Haven't been able to translate them yet, but I think at least one of the runes here means protection. Guess I'll have to give you one of those."

"You should wear one yourself, considering how nuts my life is."

"Ha ha, Chief."

"What would you consider giving it away' to be in dollars?"

"Anywhere from free, on a generous day, to a hundred thou."

"Damn. You do take checks, right?"

He genuinely laughed at this, and I grinned. Gabe was decked out in his typical retro 70's garb, his longish, kind of shaggy dark hair showing no sign of having been combed recently, and a three-day beard forming slowly around his broad smile.

"What's with the rest of these boxes?" I asked.

"I've got a lot of other stuff in, too. And I'm planning on getting rid of some of my own personal junk, so I think I'm taking it to Goodwill or something."

"That's sweet of you, Gabe. But did you forget to shave?" I teased.

"Umm" he trailed off as footsteps could be heard approaching us.

"Who is it, Gabe?" Andreanna McPherson, known to everyone as Mac because she would tolerate no other name, appeared in the room. Her face lit up when she saw me and she fingered the necklace hanging around her neck, the one whose set looked exactly like that of the Witchblade. 

"Sara!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't expecting it to be you. I thought it was just a customer. How is everything going for you?" she asked, her Scottish accent peeking through by the end of her phrase.

"Well, I've been better. There's a crazy serial killer on the loose and I've been getting someunsavory gifts as of late. We just can't seem to catch the bastard. So watch out, both of you, although you most of all, Mac. He seems to only target women so far and he's killed two, although we can't figure out a connection between the victims as of yet." 

"So, in other words, nothing new happening. Same old, same old."

"Pretty much." I grinned. 

"Sara was curious about my lack of shaving," Gabriel said.

"Oh, that. Well, I like stubbly guys," Mac said, rubbing his (most likely) rough chin and smiling. 

"Ah," I said, understanding. I knew exactly where Mac was coming from. There was no way I was letting Ian shave off his beard. But he was too lazy to do it anyway except for maintenance, so everyone was happy. 

Mac seemed to read my thoughts, or she could have actually done the deed, since she was telepathic and telekinetic like Raven Cole. "Speaking of stubbly guys, how's Ian?" she wanted to know.

I grinned at her. "He's fine. He's more than fine, actually, but he's been having a hard time getting a job."

"I'm sorry to hear that. So are we going to be able to meet up tomorrow night?" 

"Not sure. Have to call Ian and see what's going on."

Just then my phone rang.

"Hold that thought," I said, turning away from Gabe and Mac. "Hello?"

"Hello, my love."

"Hey, you. I was just talking about you, in fact. We don't have any plans for dinner tomorrow night, do we?" 

"No more than usual. Why?"

"Well, I'm at Gabe's right now and he and Mac were wondering if we'd want to go out to dinner with them, Raven, and Jackson."

"That would be wonderful. I'd like that. Where and what time?"

"Hang on," I said, and covered the mouthpiece. "Where and what time?" I asked Mac. 

"Umm7:45 at Tina's?" she said, naming a restaurant slightly fancier than Trappetto's was but not terribly so. I repeated the information to Ian.

"Sounds excellent. Will you be home soon?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to drop by Gabe's on my way." 

"All right. I will see you momentarily."

"Bye, baby." We hung up and I turned back to Gabe and Mac. "He says we're on."

"Great! It's a reunion of the Associatesalmost."

"More like the close friends and allies of the Witchblade. But speaking of the Associates, how are they? Where are they?"

"They're still pretty much in hiding, but still bugging me to get another warehouse. Maybe a smaller one this time" Mac mused.

"Ummright. Well, call Raven and Jackson and we'll go from there," I said. "I'd better head home or Ian'll freak out or something."

"Okay. We'll see you tomorrow night, Pez," Mac said, and she and Gabe walked me to the door.

"Take care, Chief," Gabe replied.

"Bye, you two." I jogged down the steps as Gabe closed his door and started "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" back up from the beginning. I rolled my eyes and left the building.

***

As the door to my apartment closed, Mac and I breathed sighs of relief. 

"I thought she'd never leave," she said. 

"She wouldn't have stayed so long if you hadn't been blabbing," I said.

"Shut up, Gabriel. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, I do!"

"Shut up!"

"Quit saying that!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"Damn you, Mac! You're so irritating!"

"Oh, like I'm the only irritating one? I don't think so, buster. You're the irritating one. You're a total slobI don't see how you can live in thisfilth," she said, opening the refrigerator and recoiling in disgust. "And for God's sake throw away all this take-out food you're never going to eat!"

I was about to continue the foolish argument when a question struck my mind instead. "Mac, what's happening to us? Everything was going so well, and now all we do is fight. That's all we've been doing in private for weeks, maybe months, and we have to keep working at covering it all up."

"Reality happened, Gabe. I don't think we're as compatible as we once seemed to be. We're not living in a fairy tale."

"Well, that's apparent. Not like Sara and Ian."

"I envy them, Gabe. How did they get so lucky?"

"Not without plenty of trial and error. I can't believe he was under her nose for so long and she simply didn't see it."

"And now they're practically inseparable. Just like he wanted. He's so good to her."

"Are you saying I'm not good to you?" I asked.

"No! God, we've got to stop this or I'll just go mad. Gabe, you're a great guy and everything, but if we can't have a conversation without snapping at each other a thousand timesI don't really see the point of us being together."

"I know. Should we tell them at dinner tomorrow?"

"At the end of dinner. But we shouldn't act all love-birdy while we're there."

"Do you think we'll be able to maintain a professional relationship? I mean, Sara and the Witchblade are important to both of us, and we'll have to come in contact with each other in order to keep them safe."

"I think we can still manage that," Mac said.

"Do you remember what started all this?" 

"No." She shook her head. "Isn't that usually how it goes?" she asked softly.

I nodded, looking around at the boxes scattered all over the floor. The majority of them did contain merchandise for the store, as I had told Sara, but a few contained the small amount of Mac's possessions that she had been beginning to keep at my place in case we decided to move in together. Guess that idea was toast.

I helped her take the boxes down to her car and loaded the back seat and trunk with them.

"Is that it?" I asked.

"I guess so. I'm sorry about all this, Gabriel, and I would say I wasn't trying to hurt you if we hadn't hurt each other so much already."

"I understand, Mac. Maybe this will have been for the best."

"The Witchblade works in mysterious waysit weaves an unusual web, Gabriel. It's not our place to try and understand its logic."

"I guess so. SoI guess I'll see you tomorrow night."

" Till then," she said, and kissed my cheek in farewell. "Goodbye, Gabriel."

"Goodbye, Mac."

She got into her car and drove away as I watched. I sighed and went back inside, wondering what had happened to us. There would be a void inside me for a while until I figured out what to do romantically.

"Sorry it backfired, Mac," I whispered to myself. "Hope we can recover eventually."

***

I arrived at the apartment (no longer referred to as "Sara's apartment" in my subconscious) before Sara did and let myself in. I deposited my coat on a chair and put the three business cards of the institutions I meant to investigate for potential employment on the coffee table for in the morning. I picked up the phone and placed a quick order to Sara's favorite Chinese place, taking some time to talk to Bob and get interrogated. I didn't bring up the question that was plaguing my mindsurely he wasn't a Chinese man named simply Bob—but I didn't want to be rude and kept myself from asking. Whatever his nationality, Bob seemed like a nice guy, and we had a pleasant conversation until he realized he was blocking the restaurant's phone line, which lead to a hasty goodbye and a dial tone.

Sitting down on the sofa with a sigh, I waited for Sara to come home. Thankfully I didn't have long to wait.

"Ian! You home?" she called as she took the stairs at least three at a time.

"I am, my love," I said, and she dropped her gear and crossed the room, embracing me.

"How was the rest of your day?" I asked her as I put my arms around her.

"Terrible. Vic was especially graphic in her oral autopsy report. This guy is sick, Ian, and I'm worried. I told Mac to be cautious because this psycho is on the loose. I would tell Raven but somehow I think she could handle it. And I'm not saying that Mac couldn't, but"

"I understand. So how were those two?" I inquired.

"Fine. They asked about you and I said you were fine. Gabe's about to get run out of his place what with all of the boxes from his last big shipment."

"Good for him. The shipment part, not the eviction."

She smiled, as was my goal. "How was your day? Surely nowhere near as gruesome as mine."

"No, I can't claim that honor. I finally got waited on at the unemployment office and apparently three companies are looking for bodyguards for their CEO's."

"Great! So you can pick and choose, huh?"

"Something like that. But there's just one small problem." 

"And that would be?"

"I have an interview tomorrow morning at 9:30."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "What's the problem with that? You should be excited."

"It's at Vorschlag."

The brow arched even more, inching its way to her hairline. "No way."

"Yes. I will finallyget to meet the famed Adair Avilla."

"Not something you'll be happy about. She's a conniving, despicable, evil bitch. Arrogant, rude—"

"—To put it plainly and skip all the adjectives, she's exactly like her father."

"Yes. There is definitely some family resemblance going on there. I still can't believe you never knew about her, considering how long you were around the man."

"It is hard to believe, but I don't think that even Irons knew about her until recently." 

"Will wonders never cease. It wouldn't surprise me if she killed dear old Dad herself. But you'll make it fine, Ian. No one says you have to take the position there; after all, there are two other job openings."

I smiled as I thought about this. "You're right, Sara. Thank you."

"Any time," she said, taking my face in both hands and kissing me.

"Are you hungry?" I asked when she finished. She grinned.

"Sure am."

"I just called Bob. Guess Nick'll be over here soon."

"That wasn't what I meant, Ian," she said with a wicked smile, reaching for my belt buckle.

Somehow I didn't think we were going to make it until the takeout arrived.


	15. Chapter 15

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Hello, all. Sorry it's taken me so long, but you know how it goes with school. Plus my muse wasn't speaking to meshe's easily pissed off, andwell, that left me kind of stranded. But you can thank the music of Starship (formerly Jefferson Airplane and Jefferson Starship) for the end of this chapter. Just got a CD with their greatest hits and wow! Nothing inspires me like 80's musicfor some bizarre reason. ;) Just a warning: if anyone thinks that Ian acts out of characterwell, you haven't been paying attention to my series, now, have you? I'm getting him out of his shell. And I think he may be spending too much time with Sarasee what you think when you read the end. And by all things sacred, please review! Lack of reviews doesn't spur my muse on, and you saw how long it's taken me to post. Close to two weeks! Do you want to contribute to that? Didn't think so. ;) Love you allbut I'll love you a lot more if you review!

~DM

Chapter 15

Someone knocked on the door of the apartment, waking me instantly. Sara, however, was oblivious to everything considering she was practically unconscious. I smiled slightly at her sleeping form, pulled on my pants, and crossed the room to open the door.

"Hello, Nick," I said.

"HeyIan, right? You and Pez are together, yeah?" Nick asked. 

Sara's love life must have been—and was probably continuing to be—a hot topic of discussion for her friends and acquaintances. Interesting thought. 

"Yes, that's right," I said, smiling at him. He didn't look Chinese, either, with his lanky frame, red hair, and freckles. Stop thinking about that, Ian,' I told myself. You're acting like everything's supposed to make sense in this world. And yet your lover wields an ancient, sentient bracelet that becomes a gauntlet and swordand that makes loads of sense in itself.' 

"Here you go," Nick said, handing me the food. "$16. 67, as usual."

"Sure. Just hang on," I said, carrying the food inside and putting it down on the table. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty, handing it to Nick and shaking my head when he started to make change.

"Thanks, sir! You and Pez are great!"

"Any time," I said. "Goodbye."

"Bye!" he said jovially, and I closed the door behind him. 

I heard sounds from inside the apartment and headed in to see Sara tossing a bit. I sat down on the bed beside her and kissed her forehead. One green eye popped open, followed closely by the other. I straightened and she looked up at me.

"Have a good rest?" I asked.

"What rest?" she returned with a grin. 

"True. Nick just dropped by and dinner's here."

"Okay," she yawned. She hadn't moved yet.

"Um, Sara?" I asked. She looked at me. "Motion would be preferable," I teased.

"Oh, you mean I actually have to get up?" she asked, acting surprised.

"That is typically how it's done."

"Oh. Gotcha." She sat up, stretched, slipped a large T-shirt over her head, and then slid off the bed and joined me at the table.

"Oooh, yum. You know me too well, Ian," she said as we dug in.

"Yes, well, I've been paying attention," I said.

"Good for you. So what were you up to today? You already know about my day."

"Well, I already told you about the job search. I almost killed the clerk."

Sara choked on her drink. "What?!?"

I'd expected that reaction, and I smiled. "Not really. Just in my mind. She was a Valley girl and she reminded me of McCartey."

"Oh. Well, that's okay, then."

I smiled. She wasn't fond of West Coasters, either. Considering her experience with them, I couldn't blame her. And there didn't seem to be much love lost between themI was a little relieved by that.

"So what happened after that? How'd you stay sane?" she asked, knocking me out of my reverie.

"It was rather difficult. She asked me for my "umyou know, those things?"

"Credentials?" Sara asked, and I had to work hard to keep myself from bursting out laughing. 

"Yes. Exactly my choice of words. Then I told her that if I related them to her I would have to end her life. She called her supervisor in terror and he took care of me. I explained my prank and he did everything but give me the key to the city. Including schedule a meeting at Vorschlag."

"Ian."

"Hmmm?"

"You're obsessing over this," she admonished.

"Oh. Sorry. I'll try to get over it," I said, properly chastised.

"Well, look on the bright side. As soon as it's over and you turn her down, you can call me and tell me all about it."

"True." At least there was that.

"Ian?" Sara asked after a moment.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think Adair knows about the Witchblade?"

I pondered this for a moment, and a shiver ran down my spine at the very thought.

"I'm not sure, Sara. If she mentions it in any way, I'll be sure to let you know." 

Now I was more nervous than I had been previously. Combine Irons's ruthlessness, obsession with the Witchblade, and overall spirit into a woman, throw her into the driver's seat of a very powerful company, and we could have some big problems. Adair could potentially wield it, although she would be a pretender and she wouldn't be able to kill Sara, Raven, or myself with the blade since we all wore it. But Gabriel, Mac, her partner Connor, Jacksonthey were all susceptible. 

I realized I had been caught up in my thoughts when Sara whistled and brought me down to earth.

"You zoned out on me. Thinking?"

"Unfortunately." 

She smiled. "Just wondering."

Sara embraced me after we finished dinner and cleaned up, looking me in the eye from her shorter height. 

"Everything's going to work out fine, Ian. Isn't that what you always tell me when things aren't going so well?" I nodded. "Well, this time you need to believe it. You're usually right when you say it."

I sighed. "I just want tomorrow to be over."

"I know. But, considering it won't be until it's ready, do you mind if I distract you for a while?"

"That wouldn't bother me in the least," I said, scooping her up before she could react and heading purposefully toward the bed. 

***

I had spent most of the day in the Witchblade hall of Father's—excuse me, my— mansion, examining the pieces of art featuring the sentient object, and also in the library reading all the files and books I could get my hands on with that subject. The more I learned about the Witchblade, the more eager I was to see the thing firsthandand the more I wanted it for myself. So this was what had captured Father's attentionit must not have been hard for him to be entranced by its powerbut I actually had a chance. I was a woman and could wield it.

While poring through the amassed knowledge of the Witchblade available to me, I had also read a complete background on Sara Pezzini that was included in one of the files. Adopted as an infant, her "mother" died when she was young and her "father" James Pezzini, a homicide detective with the same precinct she now worked at—the 11th—raised her. She received the Witchblade during a shootout at the Midtown Museum on November 11th, 2000. She had been openly and then subtly pursued by Father in order to separate her from the Witchblade and to take her as a lover, but he failed in both areas. The Periculum was reached and she passed. Over time Father'sservant Ian Nottingham became infatuated with her and disobeyed Father by leaving his service and turning to Pezzini. They became lovers and the rest was history.

I closed the file and stretched, leaning back in my desk chair. As far as I could tell, Ian Nottingham was the surest way to the Witchblade. Father had made sure that the research with the Black Dragons had been carefully preserved and with that information in my back pocket, it would be easy to "reprogram" him to take the Witchblade from Pezzinior to kill her. I smiled at this thought. It was so much fun to play with people's lives. Victory would soon be mine as soon as I got my hands on Ian Nottingham.

***

I awoke the next morning when the sky was tinged with pink from the rising sun. I watched the opening of Mother Nature's art gallery for a while, then turned to the masterpiece resting beside me. Even in slumber a slight smile was in place across her lips. She was lying on her left side, tangled up in her portion of the sheets, the arm with the Witchblade resting over her head on the pillow. Some of her hair had fallen across her face. I smiled and brushed it back gently, not wanting to wake her. 

I glanced at the clock and gingerly got up off the bed, definitely not something I wanted to do. Watching her the whole time, I slowly got dressed in one of my better suits for the interview, not forgetting to slip one of my smaller guns into the inside pocketno room for my arsenal in a blazer but it was better than nothing. 

Sara stirred as I was getting ready to leave and I sat down on the bed beside her. She opened her eyes drowsily, looked me over, and said, "You look nice."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Hey, what did I say about that?" she asked, her mock indignation weakened by the sleepy tone she said it in. 

I grinned. "If my memory is correct, it was something like Don't call me that!' Am I wrong?"

"No. So why did you do it?"

"It seemed fitting at the time."

"Hmmm." She snuggled deeper into the pillow.

"So, do I look the part of a job applicant?" I asked. She raised an arm and twirled her index finger, signaling me to turn around.

"Superb," she said once she was satisfied, sitting up and pulling the sheets up with her.

I sighed. She took my cheek in one hand and said, "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I don't want to, but I would rather not break the engagement. It just isn't in good taste."

"And heaven forbid you do something rude," she said.

"Exactly. I'll leave that to you."

"Ooooh, nice one, Ian. Have I been rubbing off on you?" A raised eyebrow came with that remark.

"In more ways than one," I said, kissing her. She smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Just wish I still was."

"You and me both. Well, you'd better get out of here, you rogue. What are you going to do until 9:30?"

"Probably just drive aroundcollect my thoughts for this encounter."

"Just don't be too charming. Don't want to lose you to a witch like her."

"Trust me, there's no comparison," I said, kissing her again and then taking her right hand, my fingers inching toward the bracelet. "This Witch is the only one I listen to."

"Other than me."

"You're not a witch, Sara."

"Then what am I? Not psycho."

"It depends on how you look at it." She glared at me. "True, some people could consider you as such, but I don't. I just think you're beautiful. And that I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world."

"Hmmm." She smiled. "I could get used to waking up and hearing this. You're spoiling me, Ian."

"I could make it a habit if you like."

"Oh, I like." She grinned

"Well, I'd better get out of here now or else I'll never leave," I said, beginning to stand, but Sara pulled me back down.

"Would that be so terrible?" she asked, catching my lips with her own. We broke apart breathless and I stood up.

"Definitely not. But I am obligated to go."

"I know," she said, pouting. 

I grinned. "I'll be back soon.".

"You'd better be. I love you."

"I love you too. Be careful today."

"Aren't I always?" she asked. "Wait, don't answer that."

I laughed. "Goodbye, my love."

"Bye."

I let myself out of the apartment and closed the door, locking it behind me. I leaned back against it for a minute, fighting the part of me that wanted to run back inside, and forced myself to walk down the stairs to my car and drive away. 

Time passed surprisingly quickly. I guess it's true what people say about time rushing by when you're not looking forward to something. Then it comes all the faster. As I pulled up to the all-too-familiar, formidable façade of Vorschlag Industries, an intense feeling of dread pervaded my senses. This place had been the setting of much of my life, but it had never been—and never would be—a home. I thought I had escaped its reach when I broke free of Irons, but I clearly had been mistaken. A part of me was still bound to the name, a part so miniscule I had thought it was nonexistent but it still remained and I hated myself for its presence. 

I entered the building and slowly strode toward my destination, feeling like a dead man walking as I went down one of the many seemingly endless corridors. I was early so I had time to muse and prepare myself for whatever Adair Avilla would throw at mewhich could take some time and effort on my part.

As I continued on, I saw Sara in my mind. At least she believed in me. I myself wasn't sure that I could emerge from this building and still be a free man. If Irons left Adair everything, as reported, then she would have received documents pertaining to my Black Dragon backgroundand to the Witchblade. 

I had reached the receptionist's desk by this time and I stopped cold. I hadn't truly considered the possibility that Adair could want the Witchblade in depth, and I wasn't sure of anything yet, but the more I thought about it the more plausible it seemed. I was about to simply leave, forget about all of this and above all keep Sara out of harm's way as much as possible —and I had even turned around in preparation for this—when a familiar voice broke through.

"Mr. Nottingham!"

My heart sank as I turned back around. The face of Gina Ramirez, whose position was obviously still intact after the new management had taken over, looked back at me.

"It's great to see you. So you're here to see Ms. Avilla?" she asked. "I think I have that written down here somewhereyeah, 9:30."

"That is correct, although I'm not even sure why I came back here. I thought I'd put this place behind me."

"I'm not sure that's possible," Gina said. "I was sitting in that cell downtown because I was a suspect in Irons's murder or death or whatever it's being ruled as, and while I was there I told myself that there was no way in hell that I'd come back here. I said I'd get as far away from this place as I possibly couldand yet here I sit. It's almost like Vorschlag calls to you"

"Something like that," I agreed, then looked at my watch and sighed. 9:27. Only three minutes to prepare for meltdown. 

"Counting down?" she asked. 

I nodded.

"You know, you could just leave right now and no one would know that you came—"

"Ah, Mr. Nottingham!" A cultured, refined, and extremely arrogant voice announced, and I turned towards its source. A tall woman with shoulder length white blonde hair and green eyes which could only be described as "strange" or something similar walked toward me. She wore a sleeveless black dress that hung to her ankles and hugged her framenot her curves, for there were none to be seen. She was extremely thin, so much so that she looked almost unhealthy.

"Oopsguess not," Gina muttered. I stifled a smile and instead focused on the other woman in the room. "Ms. Avilla. It's truly a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad that you could make time for me today."

She waved a hand. "It was nothing. Please, let's go to my office and discuss things further in there." I started on my way, but Adair's voice stopped me. 

"What do you think you're doing? Get back to work!" Her formerly smooth voice had turned positively acidic and Gina, shaking, turned back to her desk. Adair returned to where I was standing and smiled, or at least tried. Whatever the expression was, it was forced. "Shall we?"

I nodded and followed her to the end of the hall, to Irons's old office. Once we were inside, she closed the door behind us.

"Well, I'm glad you're here, Mr. Nottingham. I was looking forward to meeting you, especially after learning that you worked for my father for quite some time."

"Yes. Ms. Avilla, I apologize, but I believe I should leave. I really wasn't intending to come here."

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked softly.

"I left yourfather's service because I could stand it no longer, and there hasn't been a day that I have regretted my decision to leave. I went to find a job yesterday in my line of work and the clerk made this appointment for me, but I really had no intention of accepting a position here. I apologize for wasting your time, Ms. Avilla, but I really shouldn't be here." I turned toward the door but found Adair blocking me.

"Come now, Mr. Nottingham, or may I call you Ian?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Well, then, Ian. I see no reason why you shouldn't work for me. Any disagreements you may have had with my father are over, considering he is no longer with us. And I'm certain we could come to some arrangement that would make it well worth your while."

"I'm sorry, but my answer is no. I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else to fill your position."

"Perhaps you don't understand where I'm coming from, Ian. This isn't just about you working for me as a bodyguard."

"Then what is it about, Ms. Avilla?"

"You know, Ian, many people in positions of power, like myself, are not simply linked to those who work for them in an employer-employee relationship. If you join me, Ian, you could have anything you would ever dream of," she said, touching my face. I backed up as though she had burned me.

"That's not true, Ms. Avilla," I said stiffly. "I already have everything I want. All encompassed in one package."

"You still don't understand, Ian," Adair said, and her voice changed timbre from "schmooze" to venom. "The way I see it, I own you. I know everything about you, from how you came to exist to how you were modified in the Black Dragon program to serve my father unconditionally. You turned out to be defective in the end, and here I am giving you another chance and you practically spit in my face."

"If I actually believed that you were being so, I would thank you for your generosity, but you're exactly like your fatherand I can see straight through you." I brushed past her and tried to leave again, but then she said something quietly. I had to strain to hear her.

"That's not all I know, of course."

I whirled and looked her in the eye. "And what else, pray tell, do you know?" I asked, eyes narrowed.

She smiled a purely evil smile. "I know about that little package that has everything you want. A very nice looking womanwho happens to have something I want. Yes, Ian, I know all about Sara Pezzini. Where she works, what her weaknesses are, and the fact that she wields the Witchblade, a truly fascinating object."

"The Blade would rather destroy itself than be placed on your wrist," I snarled.

"And I also know about how devoted you are to her," she said as though she hadn't heard me. "What you don't realize, Ian, is that I can take everything away from you with just one little move. Sara is mortal, painfully so, and if I have to, I will eliminate her. I'm not like my father in that sensehe needed her to stay alive for his own sake, his little vampire routine. Well, Ian, I'm not in that situation. In fact, Sara is worth more to me dead than alive. But if you cooperate with me, I won't lift a finger against her."

"I highly doubt that. If you want the Witchblade as much as your father did, then you would do anything to get it regardless of my cooperation. You don't scare me, Avilla, if that's what you were going for."

"You should be scared, Ian. I can make your life a hell."

"Again, I'm skeptical. I survived hell. I lived it all my life, under your father. I can take anything you throw at me, and Sara can as well."

"Then I suppose this is the time to say "This means war" or something similarly cliché," she said.

"It seems that way."

"So you won't reconsider my offer? You don't think I'm telling the truth when I say that your beloved Sara will be safe if you work for me?"  
"Lady," I said, impatient and, I realized, sounding a lot like Sara, "I wouldn't believe you if your tongue came notarized." I stalked over to the door and flung it open, leaving quickly.

"This isn't over! You're going to regret your decision!" Adair screamed.

"Like hell I will," I muttered, and, after saying a quick goodbye to Gina, escaped from Vorschlag Industries.


	16. Chapter 16

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Hello all! Did you think I was dead? Well, I'm not, although as far as high school goes, I might as well bewell, maybe not. Straight A's, baby! Anyway, it's amazing how much life is sucking right now but I'm sticking it out and now, for your reading pleasure, I have an economy-sized chapter for you. Also, I have a long school break coming up this week so maybe if I'm lucky I'll be able to post more soon. Just bear with me and know that you all are the best and I will try to meet your demand for new chapters. 

And by all things sacred, REVIEW!!!! 

~DM ;)

Chapter 16

I watched Ian leave my office and cursed loudly, striding over to my desk and slamming my fist on the aforementioned piece of furniture. Well, that hadn't worked at all like I had planned. 

Could you have taken on more than you can handle, Adair? You've never a problem seducing men before...what's so damn special about this one?' I asked myself. I've even gotten to married men! Sure, he is closely tied to the Blade...he's the Guardian, for God's sake! But that's never given me a problem before... So what is it about Ian Nottingham that made me screw up...and why am I obsessing? Could I possibly be...no!' I shook my head firmly. Surely not. Well, next order of business' I picked up the phone from its cradle and dialed a number. I only had to wait a couple of seconds before the call was answered.

"Yes?"

"I have another assignment for you," I said. "But unfortunately it varies from your typical preference."

"What do you mean? I'll kill anyone" He almost sounded sad.

"I know you will, hon," I soothed. "But this is important. Sara Pezzini is becoming a problem."

"So she's who you want me to knock off? What's so different about her? She's just another bitch who deserves everything that's coming to her."

"I agree with you, but no, I don't want you to kill herat least, not yet. I'll give her a sporting chancebecause I feel like being fair."

"Today."

"Very funny. Notice I'm not laughing. No, I need you to get rid of a man this time. His name is Ian Nottingham, and you may have seen him following you or around you sometimeit seems like he watches everything, almost like Batman or something."

"What's he look like?"

"Tall, dark hair, likes blackcome on, you can figure it out."

"Sure. Consider it done," Bill said.

"Good. Get to work. I want to hear of his death by the end of the night."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

"Shut up, you smart ass. Just do what I tell you." I hung up and turned away from the phone, heading for the door of my office. I stopped halfway and then turned back around and picked up the receiver again. I dialed another number quickly and waited. 

"Immo."

"Doctor, I believe there are several things you and I need to discuss involving Ian Nottingham..."

***

Still a little shaken up by my Adair encounter, I called Sara as soon as I made it to the car.

"Pezzini, Homicide."

"Hello."

"Hey, babe. How'd it go?"

"Terribly. We're in trouble, Sara. More than I had previously anticipated."

"How so?" 

"Adair did several things that made me extremely nervous and will most likely end in unfavorable consequences."

"Number one?"

"She tried to seduce me into becoming her bodyguardin more ways than one."

I could practically feel her revulsion in the ever-strengthening link between us. "That bitch! That little whore! Why, I oughtta—Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Nothing happened," I said.

"I trust you, Ian. It's her I don't trust."

"And rightly so. Another thing: when we heard that Irons left her everything, he meant everything. Apparently she got hold of some files about you, me, and the Witchblade."

"Meaning she knows all about both of our lives, about your Black Dragon thing, and about the you-know-what?" she asked incredulously. I had to muddle through her coding until I remembered that she was in her office in the precinct, not doubt with Connor in the room, and she wanted to avoid certain questions including certain phrases. 

"Yes. And now she wants the Blade for herself."

"Damn! So we still haven't been able to move past that issue."

"Sara, if we ever move past that issue, something will be very wrong. There is definitely always going to be a very real threat against the forcible theft of the Blade."

Sara groaned. "So what did she say when she was trying to make the pitch?" 

"She kept bringing you into it, asking me whether or not I wanted to keep you safe, wanting to know if I believed her when she said that you'd be fine if I worked for her, etc."

"What did you say?"

"I told her I wouldn't believe her if her tongue came notarized."

"Ouch!" she crowed. "That's great! That sounds like something I would say."

"Exactly why I chose it. As far as I'm concerned, it was almost like you were in my head telling me what to say."

"So, where are you off to now?"

"I'm going home for a minute to call and see if either of the two other businesses can see me this afternoon. Maybe I'll have good news by tonight."

"Great. Well, take care, baby. If you see any other CEO's remotely resembling Adair, turn on your heel and get out of there."

"You don't have to tell me twice. I love you."

"I love you, too. Shut up, Connor!" I snickered. "Sorry, this stupid rookie is wearing on my last nerve. See you tonight."

"All right. And Sara?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't kill Connor. You work in the homicide part of a police station."

"Thanks for your faith in me," she said sarcastically.

"Anytime. Bye."

"Bye, you wacko."

***

"Ah, good old precinct life," Connor remarked as he and I slaved over paper at 7:00 that evening. It had taken me forever to get off my back about the phone call, but with a little promise of severe bodily harm, he dropped the issue. 

"How did this accumulate again so fast?" I asked, gesturing to our workload. It didn't seem to be any less than what we had been working on for most of the previous day. I sighed.

"Don't know, but sometimes I wish we could kill the secretaries that type up this stuff," he replied

"Ditto. Listen, Connor," I said. "I've got to take off. I've got a huge date tonight. Me, Ian, and four of our friends."

"Nope, sorry, Pez. You deserve some more intimate time with the desk here. Forgetting the whole "skipping out on your dedicated partner" thing?"

"Who, my dedicated rookie partner?" I asked.

"Come on, Pez, even if I am a rookie, I don't deserve to get walked on."

"That's the way things are, kid. I was trampled over when I was in your shoes, and so the cycle continues."

"Another hour."

"I can't!"

"Forty-five minutes."

"Connor," I said warningly.

"Thirty."

I sighed. There was no way I could make it to my apartment, get ready, and get to Tina's in fifteen minutes.

I was about to keep arguing with him when there was a knock on my door and Jones stuck his head in. "Hey, Pez, there's someone out here that wants to see you."

"Okay. Thanks, Jones," I said, getting up from my desk. "I need a hiatus anyway," I said, looking pointedly at Connor and following Jones out of my office. To my surprise, Raven Cole was outside waiting for me near Laredo's office.

"Hey Sara!" she said happily. I grinned and crossed over to where she was standing.

"Hey. Someone's happy," I remarked.

"Life is good," she said. "Listen, I need you to come with me."

"Now?"

"Right now. Jackson's waiting for us downtown near the warehouse district."

I grimaced. "Why there?"

"He found some kind of lead or something. Don't know what it is—he hasn't even told me yet. He just wanted me to come and get you."

"I've got to get out of something, but I'll see what I can do." I ran back into my office and said, "Connor, I have to go. Give me double penance tomorrow."

"Pez," he whined, gesturing to all the paperwork stacked around him."

"Hey, how about this? I've got to go meet someone before the actual meeting, so why don't you take a break, come with me to the meeting with Jackson and then to dinner?"

"I can't. I'd—I'd feel like a—seventh wheeland that didn't sound nearly as good out loud as it did in my head," he said, frowning at his botched analogy.

I laughed. "You wouldn't beconsider yourself the chaperone. You can make sure we don't get out of hand, keep all appendages to ourselves. Now come on!" I grabbed him by the forearm and dragged him out of his chair, out of the office, and over to Raven, who immediately grinned. She circled Connor, giving him the full look-over.

"Sara, who's your adorable little friend?" she asked.

"Hands off, girl. You've got Jackson, remember?"

"Oh, yeahfunny how I keep forgetting." Raven laughed at my look. "Just kidding. So what's your name, stud?"

Connor blushed but stuck his hand out and said, "Marcus Connor. Nice to meet you, um"

"Raven," she supplied, shaking his hand. "Raven Cole."

"Oh, you're the girl that called the other day talking about dry-ice spoons—Ouch!"

I elbowed him in the side to shut him up. Raven just smiled and said, "My reputation precedes me. Yeah, that's me. What do you go by?"

"Connor," he said instantly. 

"Got it. Sara, he's a vast improvement on your last partnerif I wasn't involved, oh, what I'd do," she said with a sly smile, clearly loving the shade of red Connor was turning. "Anyway, enough of that, come on. We've got places to go, people to see."

"Killers to catch," I said.

"Exactly. Okay, time to go."

"Um, Pez, shouldn't we sign out with the Captain?" my partner asked.

"Laredo's already gone home, Connor. But if I musthold that thought, Raven. Hey, Jones!" I shouted. The cop in question turned and looked at me. "What?"

"Come here!" He did so.

"What's the deal?"

"Didn't feel like yelling across the room."

Could have fooled me."

"Very funny. Will you clock Connor and me out?"

"Sure thing, Pez. The usual half-hour past time of departure?"

"You got it. Thanks, Jones."

"No prob, Pez."

I turned back to my friends. "Okay. Now we can go."

"Raven, it's 7:38. There is no way that we're going to make it in time," I told the driver of our car. I was in the passenger's seat and Connor was in the back.

"It's not my fault we got stuck in traffic!"

"Well, actually—" Connor began.

"Don't say anything," she warned. "I realize I'm driving, thus it is my fault."

"Damn, she's good," he said. Raven smirked, and I rolled my eyes.

"I'd better call the others and tell them we're going to be later than planned," I said, grabbing my cell and calling Ian.

"Sara?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, traffic's a bitch right now and I'm stranded in a car with a bird and a rookie cop."

"A motley crew," he remarked. "So you're with Raven and Connor?"

"Yes. We're on our way to meet Jackson and pick him up."

"We're here!" Raven announced. "It was just the next turn-offjust took us half an hour to get to it" She continued muttering under her breath as she parked the car and we headed up to the roof of the building.

"Why the roof?" I asked, still holding my cell phone to my ear.

"How many people are going to be hanging around on the roof?" she asked, swinging open the door. 

"Apparently two," Connor said, pointing in front of us.

Right after Connor pointed, the sound of a man's scream of horrifying pain filled the air.

"Hey, what the hell's going on up there? Hold it!" Raven shouted. She ran ahead of us, and Connor and I had to struggle to keep up. 

"What's going on?" Ian asked, having heard Raven's shout.

"Something's not right. Get over here now! Are Mac and Gabe with you?"

"Yes."

"Well, you'd better book it." I glanced down at my wrist and the Witchblade was swirling furiously, taking on the appearance of a whirlpool of sorts. "And the Blade really isn't liking this, whatever it is," I added.

"That's all I needed to hear. I know where you are. We'll find you." He hung up, and I didn't think to ask him about how he knew where to find me.

Connor and I arrived in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of a man running away and another man lying on his back and apparently severely injured. Raven was already kneeling by him and when we got closerwe realized it was Jackson. He had been dressed in a black shirt and pants, which were now wet with his blood, and his face was drawn and pale.

"Oh my God," I breathed. 

"Jackson? Jack, what happened?" Raven asked, cupping his face in her hands. Her face remained stoic but her frightened eyes unfortunately belied her cool exterior. 

"HeI didn't know himbut he was the church guythe guy who killed that girl—Paula. Said I knew too much so I had to die and that I'd burn in hell when I got there because of who I was. Pleasant chap, reallyup until he thought it would be fun to gut me like a fish with a huge dagger-thing."

"How in the world did he get you into this position?" I asked, kneeling down at his other side. Connor stood behind me. Surely he would have tried to defend himself.

"Stabbed me with a syringe. Some kind of paralyzing drugI couldn't lift a finger if you paid me."

Well, that answered the question fully.

"Jack, we've got to get you to a hospital," Raven said. Connor and I made motions to pick him up and we moved him about an inch but the blood resumed its gushing and he shook his head.

"I won't make it, Rave. I'm sorry. It's been fun, buthey, do you mind if I talk to Sara alone for a second?"

Connor shook his head and stepped off to the side, leaving us alone. Raven backed off reluctantly with Connor, keeping her dark eyes fixed on him at all times. I leaned in closer to him as he began.

"Listen, SaraI know I got involved in all of this for all the wrong reasons. Crimemurder-for-hire, and all kinds of other shit like that that the Speakers. But spending time with Raven and you and your friends has changed my life for the better and if I had all this to do over again I wouldn't change a thingexcept being here when I was. I just wanted to say thatand I wanted to ask you and Ian to look after Raven for me. Don't let mymemory, I guess, stop her from livingboth figuratively and literally. Don't let her do anything too stupid; as long as she trashes something, I think she'll make it through this okay."

I smiled sadly at that. "We'll look out for her, Jackson. I just wish it didn't have to end this way."

"Well, join the club on that one." 

"You said the guy told you that you'd burn in hell for who you were. Do you know him?"

"I don't remember himI've worked for a lot of people in my life, Sara."

"Maybe he knows about your Speaker stint."

"Maybe. Start looking there." He started coughing heavily. "Guess—I shouldn't have—gone out on my own—like this," he said between coughs, trying to smile weakly.

"Raven!" I shouted, waving her over.

She rushed over to where Jackson and I were, and touched his forehead. He tried to speak but she hushed him.

"So that's what he looked like?" she asked, apparently having gotten a mental picture of the killer,

Jackson nodded slightly, as much as he could, which showed the drugs were wearing off. "II love you, Rave."

"I love you too, Jack."

"I'msorry I have toleave you like this. Seems like it alwaysends this way." The coughing returned and his breathing slowed, then stilled. Then stopped completely. Raven held him to her and justroared, her voice becoming an endless, feral, despondent wail. Connor and I looked on helplessly as she screamed.

She continued this for several minutes, but when she stopped screaming and started sobbing we heard footsteps on the gravel roof of the building. Ian, Mac, and Gabe were running full tilt toward us and stopped short when they got close enough. Raven was cradling him in her arms at this point, her tears bathing his face. Her shoulders shook with her sobs and I could feel each of us reach out to her.

I stood up and felt Ian come up behind me and put his arms around me. Tears filled my eyes and I squeezed his hand. The physical distance between Mac and Gabe was unusual; they were as far apart as Ian and I were close together and normally I would have thought that they would have reacted like Ian and I had. 

Raven's shoulders stopped shaking but she remained slumped over Jackson's body. Connor stepped over and cautiously put a hand on her shoulder. 

Which turned out to be a big mistake.

Raven raised her head and looked at us each in turn, starting with Connor who looked stunned, and I felt a stab of ice run through my heart when her eyes locked with mine. They were emotionless, just hard and cold.

"Oh, no," Ian murmured.

"What?" I whispered.

"That's not a good look," he said. "That's never a good look."

"Don't. Touch. Me," Raven said in a voice about an octave lower than the one she normally used. Connor's eyes widened as one of her eyes twitched and he flew sideways, lying on the roof. Then, expression complete with a savage snarl, she started walking towards the edge of the roof.

"Raven! Calm down!" I said, trying to get in front of her and reason with her. She appeared to have just snapped. "Jumping off or doing whatever you're going to do isn't going to bring Jackson back."

Eye twitch.

"Ooof!" My back rammed against a wall, the force of the throw making an imprint of my body in the brick. A huge cloud of dust from powdered mortar engulfed me and I crumpled to the ground. Damn, that hurt. Why did she always throw me into walls when she got a little pissed? Black spots appeared in front of my eyes, becoming larger and larger and then consuming everything until I blacked out.

***

"Sara!" I called, glancing back at her now crumpled form, fighting the urge to back down and trying to focus on Raven. "Now listen to me, Birdie, you can't just throw us all into walls so you can have your way with things."

"No?" she asked.

I suddenly took flight and landed next to Sara. 

"Funny, could have sworn I could." Raven smirked.

"Birdie, this isn't you! You've got to snap out of this!" I shouted at her back. She rounded on me again.

"Actually, Dragon, I've never felt better! I feel free, freer than ever before. And none of you will be able to end that." She headed back on her path but stopped and shot over her shoulder, "Take care of the Wielder I threw her harder than I meant to."

Gabe approached Raven and he wasn't able to even get a word out when he followed our lead, flying instead toward Connor's side of the building instead of against the wall with face meeting gravel. I cradled Sara's body as I watched Raven came eye to eye with Mac.

"That little parlor trick isn't going to work on me, Raven," she said. Raven tried to attack as she had been lately but Mac's feet only slid a little on the gravel roof. "Because I can play that game, too."

Raven frowned. "So that's how you're going about it, huh? Well, we'll see who's stronger. I know you've been wanting to test this out for a long time," she said. Her eyes narrowed and she seemed to be sending all the energy she could toward Mac. I looked back and forth between them, wondering which of them would be the victor.

***

To be quite frank, I was terrified when I faced off against Raven. She was extremely strong, and with all the rage and hurt that she had on her side, it was possible that she was stronger than I wassomething I never thought I'd think or say. But I had to hold my own. I was the last line of defense for my friends and I wasn't about to back down. I didn't think she was going to kill usbut she had knocked Sara out, and that was a pretty unforgivable offense in my book. The energy she was throwing toward me would have knocked me over was I not concentrating so hard to block itit only made me move back a little. 

"Is that all you've got, Raven?" I asked with more bravado than I felt. "Surely there's more in there."

She glared at me and I made the mistake of looking her directly in the eyes, the windows to her soul. My necklace swirled and I was trapped in the depths of a vision, yet I was still able to stand up against her assault somehow. I saw Raven as a child, defying Irons with the yellow paint trick she was so fond of telling us about. I saw her torturing Irons the day she discovered how to fully control her powers, and several images of her in past lives always watching Jackson die and going on a rampage of revenge flashed before my eyes. When I was released from the vision, I was a bit unstrung and I couldn't find my focus point. I tried to make her fly backward but my attempt bounced off of Raven's protective barrier and knocked me back instead. 

I looked up from the ground, dread creeping through my heartConnor was on his feet once more and was trying to stop Raven, gun drawn.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" he said. He either thought that this was actually an effective move or that it was the only thing he could do, successful or not.

Raven ignored him and kept walking, drawing ever nearer to the young cop. He fired three shots nervously and watched slack-jawed as the triangle of bullets slowed dramatically, then stopped and fell to the ground, all with just a little wave of Raven's hand. Then his gun was jerked from his grip, the other rounds forced from their chambers to drop harmlessly on the ground, and she dismantled the weapon into many tiny pieces.

"None of you can stop me," she reiterated.

"What are you trying to do, Raven?" Sara had come to and was speaking weakly from her place with Ian by the wall.

"Sorry, can't share with the class, little kiddies. Then everyone'll be doing it."

"Somehow I doubt that," Gabe said.

"Please excuse me. I'll have to leave now; got places to go, killers to kill, buildings to blow." Raven stepped up to the edge of the building and then just walked off. 

I'm not sure what we were expecting, but I suppose that temporarily we forgot that she could levitate, so she basically was just walking in midair. Raven shot a glance at the building next to ours and then turned to face our scattered ranks once more. She put her palms up in front of her, looking something like Magneto, and then suddenly she shot up into the sky. It happened so fast that it was almost like she vanished, but we could follow a slight black streak that turned into a dot and vanished. Connor was staring at the remnants of his gun in shock. 

"Who is that chick?" he asked in disbelief.

"A very powerful telekinetic with something of a death wish," I replied.

"Why weren't you affected by herdoing whatever she did?" he wanted to know.

"She's a telekinetic, too," Gabe said.

"Sorry about this, guys," she mumbled. "Things are looking a little fuzzy here and I don't think I can stand up."

Ian and Gabe slowly stood, helping Sara to her feet. "She may have a concussion. We need to get her to the hospital," Ian said.

"You okay?" I asked. "It's a miracle that you're even coherent after that hit you just took."

"I'm fine."

"I wouldn't go that far," Ian said, and Sara stuck her tongue out at him.

"Okay, am I missing something here? Who the hell are you people?"

"You got a week?" Gabe asked, shifting Sara's weight a little and making Ian take up the slack.

"Try a month," Sara slurred.

"Come on, let's go!" Ian said, and the five of us rushed toward the exit.

We were halfway to the door when it happened.

The building only a few yards away from ours—which Raven had shown great interest in—suddenly detonated and burst into flames. Debris from the destroyed building, ten stories taller than the one we were on, fell all around us and everyone except for me dropped to the ground, taking the old tornado-drill position to protect themselves. Ian and Gabe sank down with Sara and leaned over her to protect her. Connor had his back against the wall, still terrified. Since we weren't as scattered now as we had been, I was able to put a protective shield up over us. But the weight of the debris was more than I had been expecting, what with the huge steel beam that threatened to break through as well as all the concrete.

"We're gonna die," Connor muttered, like a mantra. "We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die."

"Nota veryattitude there, Marcus" I said, my mind straining as I held off the debris.

"It's Connor."

"Whatever," I said.

"Macit's too much for you to hold," Sara struggled to say. "You'll hurt yourself if you try to keep it off of us."

"Better methan you, Sara," I said. It was my duty to keep her safe, even if it meant sacrificing myself. I then tried making a net of sorts out of my telekinetic energy and was able to gather up all the debris. It dropped to the roof not far from us and the shockwave nearly knocked me over. As soon as it was off of us, I collapsed to my knees and I noticed that Gabe, to my surprise, rushed to my side right before I passed out. 

***

"Mac? Mac! Wake up!" Gabe grabbed her shoulders and shook her to try and wake her up.

"What's wrong with her?" Connor asked.

"You'd better bring her with me to the hopsickle," I said, trying to shake off the sluggishness in my brain. "I mean, hospital. It looks like she's gone into some kind of shock or something"

Mac's blue eyes were wide-open and staring, unblinking. Gabe picked her up and carried her through the door, me following by hanging onto Ian.

"Wait a second," Connor said, and we stopped and looked back at him. "What about him?" he asked, gesturing to Jackson.

"Call 911 and cover for us," Sara said. "Think of something. It was Bill Crane again, so go from there."

"What about the building?"

"Gas leak," I said simply. Ian looked at me strangely. "Oh, come on, like you don't know that that's what they blame all the explosions that happen around me on."

"True."

"Okay, I'll do what I can. You guys get moving. But don't think this gets you off the hook for an explanation."

"Aye, aye, sir," I said, saluting. Ian half-dragged me down the stairs to his car where Gabe was waiting with Mac.

"Let's blow this pop stand," he said.

"I think we've had enough blowing today," I muttered, and Gabe smirked. Ian acted like he hadn't heard me, started the car, and we sped away toward the hospital.

***

I made it back to ourmy apartment and basically kicked the door in. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I made a beeline for my kitchen and grabbed a frying pan, looking around the apartment for whatever I could find to smash. There were plenty of objects that rose to the challenge, and I relished the sound of metal against glass. I grabbed random picture frames from the tables in the apartment and flung them against the walls, glass blossoming outward as it fractured and splintered. The crunch of it under my steel-toed boots was music to my ears. I slit the curtains viciously with my katanaI had never liked those curtains anyway, I rationalized, and kept hacking away at them until all that was a little pile of yellow cotton on the floor under the window. 

After I was through destroying my home, I collapsed on my bed, sobbing into the sheets. Jackson was dead and he'd taken a part of me with himlike he always did. Every time this had happened over the years I could remember feeling this way. It also felt like a piece of my sanity had gone with the piece of my heart. I found the big 8 x 10 photo of Jackson and me, the only one I hadn't thrown against a wall, and hugged it to my chest as I cried myself to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Hello, all. I know that you all must think that I've dropped off the face of the planet or something, but I assure you that I am still here, still writing, and I have every intention of doing so. I want to thank Pixie-Dust for all her incredible help in getting me out of my writer's block, Spin for her undying support, Inquisitive1 and Angharad for their awesome Ian/Sara fics that have kept me going, and every single one of you that has reviewed my series. Don't stop! I hope you like this chapter, and hopefully it won't take me as long to post next time! Life has gotten extremely crazy lately, but hopefully it will get better. Just please, PLEASE don't give up on me! I love you all!  
  
~DM

Chapter 17

I threw the phone into the cradle in disgust. Everything had gone completely wrong!

"Why isn't it possible for a girl to find decent help in this city?" I asked. One of my many spies had just informed me of Crane's botched job. Unable to wait any longer to chew someone out, I grabbed the phone again and dialed furiously.

"Yes?"

"Goddamn it, Bill! You really fucked up this time!"

"Not so loud, damn it! You want someone else to know who I really am?"

"I'm not so sure I even give a shit anymore. You blew it big time, Crane. You killed the wrong fucking man!"

"Hey, he fit the description you gave me."

"Oh, so that was all that you were going on? You're the killer here, Crane! Don't you ever watch your back to see if anyone else has a scope pointed at it? How else do you think that Pezzini's on to you, you ass? Nottingham's the key, and you lost it. So what are you going to do now?"

"Kill both of them?"

"Wrong. I don't trust you enough to do this alone anymore. Here's what I want you to do"

***

"So you ran into a wall, Ms. Pezzini?"

"Umyeah. Slipped on the stairs and bam," I said lamely.

I wasn't sure if the doctor bought it, but all he said was, "Well, you'll have a knot on the back of your head here for a few days, Ms. Pezzini, and you had a moderate concussion, but I think the danger's passed. It should be safe for you to go home." I winced as he finished treating the sensitive area.

"Are you sure about that?" I asked under my breath.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"What about Mac?" I covered. Ian smirked.

"Well" the doctor glanced over from me, sitting on the edge of one hospital cot, to Mac's horizontal form on a second cot. "I'm afraid she's in a state of severe catatonia. She's alive, but only barely. It's like she's had some sort of extreme mental strain or trauma, and to be quite honest, I'm not sure that there's anything we can do. Either she snaps out of it or she doesn't at this point. I'll go tell the nursing supervisor that you're ready to check out." He left the room, and I put my head in my hands.

"Damn it! We can't do anything for her! She saved all our asses and now we can't return the favor?"

Ian silently sat down beside me on the cot and put an arm around me. "We'll think of something, Sara."

"What about Raven?" I asked, looking at him. "Do you think that she could help at all?"

"She probably couldbut seeing her reaction to Jackson's death, I would be surprised if she is in any condition to do soor to want to do so."

"What do you mean?"

"Put simply, it's highly likely that Raven has dropped into madness."

"You mean she's gone crazy? Snapped just like that?"

Ian looked at me. "Can you not understand that?"

I thought for a moment. What with losing everyone that I had lost, it was pretty amazing that I was still forming intelligible thoughts. I could see the situation from her point of viewI didn't know how I would react if I lost Ian like thatprobably in a similar, insane, bloody fashion—but I wouldn't attack my friends, purposefully or inadvertently.

"Yeah, I can see where she's coming from. Just hope she hasn't turned into a blubbering mess."

Gabe rushed into the room at that moment. "Sorry I'm late. Connor was pretty stunned, so much so that he couldn't drive, and I had to take him home. How are you doing?" he asked.

"I had a moderate concussion and a big knot on my head, but that's it."

"Only a moderate concussion from that hit you took? Damn, you have a hard head!"

"Didn't we know that already?" Ian teased.

I gave them both a death glare until Gabe spoke up again. "How's Mac?"

"Not too good, according to the doctor. He says she's in a severe state of catatonia and that she'll either come out of it or she won't," I said, disgusted with the apathy we'd encountered.

"Wonderful." He sighed.

"Gabriel." He looked up at Ian, whom I also focused on. "You haven't told everyone about your news yet."

"What are you talking about, Ian?" I asked, eyebrow raised. "Gabe, what does he mean?"

"Ian, do I really have to say—?" he asked. "I mean, this isn't the best time"

Ian and I stared at Gabe until he met my gaze and caved. "All right, fine. Mac and Iwe broke up."

"What?" I asked, stunned. "When were you planning on sharing this with the class?"

"At dinner. But since dinner never happenedIan noticed that we were edgy around each other and demanded to know what was going on when we met him at Tina's, so we told him ahead of time. We were planning to tell you and Raven later, but"

"It didn't work out that way." I sighed. "I'm so sorry, Gabe."

"It's okay. It was getting rough. We were constantly at each other's throatsit took a lot of work to hide it from you guys, but I guess we did a good enough job of it because you didn't notice that anything was off. And that's part of the deal with all the boxes at my place. Mac had some things that she'd moved in because she'd been planning to move in. She was re-packing. Some of the boxes did hold new merchandise, but I don't tend to get shipments as big as that one."

"Everything's falling apart," I murmured.

"Don't worry, Chief. We're still with you," Gabe said, gesturing to himself and Ian. "Connor will be, toobut I definitely think you should give him the lowdown on the Witchblade. I think he's supposed to be part of the group."

"He does seem familiar" Ian mused.

"And Mac would be with us if she was conscious," I said.

"I'm really concerned about Raven. We should probably go and check on her." Ian looked worried.

"I agree. That probably wouldn't be a bad idea," Gabe said.

"I'm not trying to sound selfish here, but have we forgotten that she just threw me into a wall? And you too, Ian. Don't get me wrong, Rave's a good friend, but don't you think that something's a bit off with her when she starts throwing her friends into structures? Very hard structures?"

"If you don't want to go, we won't make you," Gabe replied. "If that could even be humanly possibleI don't think anyone could possibly force you into anything."

"I didn't say that I wouldn't go. I will, even if it's just to make sure she doesn't kill the two of you. But I think we should give her a little time to cool off first. Sort things out."

"As much as she can at this point," Ian said.

We paused by Mac's bedside and silently hoped for her speedy recovery. Ian and Gabe had walked out into the hall and I was about to follow them when I caught sight of Danny standing by Mac's bed looking at her with a sad smile.

"Hey, Danny?" I asked.

"Yeah, Pez?"

"Look out for her, okay?"

He grinned. "Sure thing, Pez. Not a problem. Take care of yourselfand remember, even though I'm not exactly matter, I'm still here for you 100%." I grinned, turning to leave.

"Oh, and Pez?" he said.

I whirled. "Yeah?"

He swept his hand across Mac's and grinned. "I can't touch her."

"That's good to know. Thanks, Danny," I said, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Ian had stopped in the doorway but had apparently not heard our exchange. When he re-entered the room, however, he saw Danny and smiled.

"We need to go, Sara. He'll watch out for Mac."

"Yeah. If he does as good a job watching her as he does me, she's in good hands."

"Why, Pez, I do believe you'd be making me blush if I still had blood," Danny said, sweeping a bow and sitting on the side of Mac's cot.

"Well, if that's not food for thought, I don't know what is. We'll be back, Danny. Stick around," I said.

"Not like I've got anyplace better to go," Danny smirked. With a final smile, Ian and I left the room and, after rejoining Gabe, left the hospital.

***

Immo called me from his subterranean laboratory and I descended eagerly, excited at what I would find.

"So he's ready?" I asked when I met up with Immo.

He sighed. "Yes, _it's_ ready. I'm not sure it's worthy of "he." I can't believe I let you talk me into doing this"

"My dear, beloved, darling Dr. Immo, you know why I talked you into this," I said, all the false sweetness draining out of my voice. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm the boss now, and just like my father before me, _I own you_. Now where is he?"

"He needs a name. To name is to know—"

"To know is to control, yeah, yeah, Dad's favorite line. Bullshit if you ask me, but I don't really like using pronouns in place of names anyway. I like Damien."

"How fitting. Seen any Gregory Peck films lately? All right, Damien, then. What about a surname?"

"Umm" I was at a loss for a moment, then murmured, "Malvado. And I don't appreciate all the sarcasm from your end, Doctor."

"Fine. I'll keep that in mind. Come out here please, Damien."

I gasped as the man appeared. He looked exactly like him.

"I trust this is satisfactory?" Immo asked dryly, seeing my dropped jaw.

"Don't be a smart ass. Of course he's _satisfactory_. More than that, even." I circled my property.

"What do you remember, Damien?" Immo asked.

"Not muchI think I've been asleep for a while."

"You have. Why are you awake now?"

"My predecessor has died."

"Not exactly," I said. "He has become defective in his emotional makeup and must be eliminated. You are the only one I trust to do so."

Damien gave a look that seemed to say, "And who are you?"

"This is your mistress, Adair Avilla," Immo added.

"Thank you for trusting me with this undertaking, mistress," he said, understanding in his gaze. "I will not fail you. Where is my predecessor?"

"Ian Nottingham is with Sara Pezzini, the—"

"—Wielder of the Witchblade," we said together.

"Yes. I know who she is. Do you want me to eliminate her as well?" he asked.

"Not just yet. We'll play with her a littleand you'll be having some help although I'm not sure you really need it. Here's what you must do"

***

"You're sure you're feeling all right?" Ian asked for the hundredth time as we walked in the door of the apartment.

"Yes," I stated emphatically. "I promise, I'm fine. No—well, very little—pain. Trust me." I kissed him. "But thanks for being worried."

"It's my job." He smiled.

"Do you want to go check on Raven a little later?"

"I think that you were right. We should give her some time to cool off. I tried to contact her with my mind while the doctor was taking care of you and Mac, but I didn't get anywhere."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that."

"What?"

"The telepathic talking thing that everyone except me can do. It would make things easier if I couldnot to mention lower my phone bills." I smirked.

"I think you can do it because of the Witchblade," he said. "We've never explored that possibility. I've been thinking about you and your control over the Witchblade lately and you've been doing well. But there are some things that I can teach you along those lines, like the telepathy and some tracking skills."

"Sounds like fun," I said.

"That may be, but I can think of something more fun," he said with a wicked grin, putting his hands on my waist and drawing me closer.

"Ooooh, you naughty boy," I said, about to say more, but Ian silenced me with a kiss.

***

When we woke up the next morning, Ian said that he was going to one of the other corporations to see if he could find a job there.

"Then later we should go and see Raven," he said.

"Have you heard anything?" I asked.

He shook his head. "She hasn't reached out to me."

"Hmm. Probably not a good sign. We have no idea what kind of state she's in."

"Don't worry about it," Ian said. "If you're preoccupied like this while you're at work, something might happen to you. Raven needs you to stay sharpand so do I."

"Ian, relax. I'll be fine."

"I'm just worried about this killer. He knew you by name, he's been making sure that you're the one seeing his little escapadesI'm afraid for you, my love."

"I appreciate it," I said, kissing him. "But if I don't leave now, I'll be late and Laredo'll have my ass."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." He smirked.

"That's not what I meant. If you think he's competition, you're dreadfully mistaken. I'll see you tonight."

"Goodbye, my Sara," he said as I headed for the door, and I shot him one last smile before closing the door behind me.

I showed up at the precinct on time, wondering how Connor would be faringassuming he had actually showed up for work. I wasn't sure of what his reaction would be to seeing me, but I would soon find out.

"Hey, Pez!" Jones called.

"Jones." He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but I raised a hand. "Hang onto that thought just one sec I'll be right back." I ducked into my office and closed the door. Thankfully, Connor was there.

"Hey, Pez," he said.

"Hey, Connor. How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean? I'm great! Couldn't be better," he said rapidly.

"Uh-huh" I said. "You're completely fine after having a building almost crush you yesterday."

"Exactly!"

Brief pause. Then—

"You're the worst liar I've ever met," I announced.

"Well, if we do paperwork then you won't have to hear me blather."

"Good point."

There was pounding on our office door. Sighing, I dropped my gear—which I was still holding for some reason—and flung open the door.

"Hello, Jones. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"S'okay. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that we found a body. Abdomen cut open, seems like the same MO as our serial killer but without all the damage and missing organs and stuff. Seems almost like the person was interrupted."

Oh, God. Jackson.' My stomach lurched at the thought of having to go back to that building again, to have to relieve the feelings I thought I'd buried. Groaning, I gathered my recently deposited gear and Connor and I headed for the crime scene.

"Who called it in?" I asked Connor as we got into our unmarked car.

"Me."

I did a double take while pulling out of the precinct parking lot—probably not the best thing—and barely managed to avoid running into several trash cans belonging to a neighboring building that were protruding slightly into the street.

"You!" I exclaimed. "What were you thinking?"

"Chill, Pez! No one knows that we were there, and Jones obviously didn't know it was me calling or else he would have mentioned it. I called anonymously from a pay phone near my place after Gabe dropped me off and I snapped out of my little daze. I didn't want Jackson to just lie there until someone wandered up to the roof and almost stepped on him. It just didn't seem right."

"I didn't know him as well as I should have. Raven was the only one that really did" I trailed off. "But anyway, thanks for callingkinda slipped my mind."

"Have you talked to her yet?" Connor asked.

"Who, Raven? Not yet. Probably some time today, but I don't know yet. Ian wants to come with me."

"I don't blame him. From what I've seen, that chick can pack a major punch, and I don't mean with fists."

"Are you implying that I can't take care of myself?"

"No. I know better than to do something stupid like that, even if I am just a dufus rookie. I'm just saying that she can definitely get the drop on peoplelike she did on you, me, and your former bodyguard boyfriend yesterday. That in itself says something."

"I guess soanyway, I was thinking of going on my lunch break."

"I'll come, too."

"Connor! Jeez!" I pulled into the parking lot of the crime scene building, slamming on the brakes once I made it into a space and causing us to both fly back in our seats. "Didn't I just say that I'll be fine on my own?"

"And didn't I just mention Raven's kick-ass potential?" Connor wanted to know, not backing down from my glare. Finally, realizing that it was a draw, I sighed and conceded.

"Okay, fine, I'll let you comebut remember, I warned you of the likelihood of bodily injury. Maybe I should get you to sign a waiver"

Connor punched me in the shoulder. "Thanks, Pez. I can feel your confidence in me. Come on, let's get this over with."

"Yeah."

***

Needless to say, going back to that building was the last thing I wanted to do, but when the forensics team took Jackson's body away, I couldn't help but feel a little better about the whole thing. Now I was more determined than ever to catch this bastard killer, and the first place I needed to go to get some info? Raven's.

When Connor and I were done at the crime scene, he suggested we run to Raven's.

"Fine. We'll go so you'll leave me alone about it."

"What about Ian?"

"He can come see her, too. But he's busy this morningjob interview. Don't worry about iteven if he does get mad, he won't be mad for long. He knows better than that."

"No sex?"

"Damn, rookie, is that really all that men think about or is it just a myth?"

"Do I really have to answer that question?" Upon seeing my look, he sighed. "Will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?"

When we reached the doorway of Raven's apartment, I got ready for some kind of showdown. The door was ajar and I rapped on it briefly before entering, gun drawn. Connor followed close behind.

"Raven? Raven, are you in here?" I walked through the apartment, surveying the damage that I knew she had caused and that I was—strangely—not surprised to see. It looked like she'd had a serious fight with the curtains courtesy of her katana and all that was left was a shredded pile of cloth on the floor beneath the window. Fine pieces of broken glass from smashed objects—most notably picture frames—coated nearly every surface and in the center of it all sat Raven, the eye of the storm. She sat there, clutching something to her chest, staring blankly into space and rocking back and forth, chanting unintelligibly. Taking my chances, I approached her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. Connor made a sound and backed away, not forgetting what had happened when he did the same thing earlier. Raven's eyes re-focused and her hand made it halfway to her katana before she realized that it was I.

She dropped her hand and she let out a little sob. "I'm sorry, Sara," she murmured. "So sorry."

"I know you are, Raven. It's okay. I'm here for youI just wanted you to have a little time to yourself to grieve, considering you threw us into walls yesterday and then came back here to trash the place." I knelt down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Foolish birdie, tossed the Wielderand even hurt her brother knight," Raven said, looking miserable and leaning into me. "Silly creature"

"Raven?" I asked. She wasn't making senseand she sounded so different from her normal, chipper self.

"The soldier startledoh, hello, Soldier," she said with a small smile, spotting Connor. "And the priestess injured, in more than one way, mind you. I wish I could help"

"You can help, Raven. Come with me to see her and maybe you can draw her out," knowing that she was talking about Mac. Connor, however, looked completely confused.

"Broken dreams are all that remain when the broken heart dies," she said lightly, taking a completely different direction.

"Raven" I whispered. "What's happened to you?"

"Severe grief," a voice said behind me. I whirled toward the window and Raven and Connor also looked in that direction.

"I thought you were going to go on an interview today, Ian," I said, relieved. I was afraid it would be some kind of intruder.

"I finished sooner than I thought."

"Guess so."

Raven made a strange sound, her face contorted in an expression that clearly radiated distrust. I didn't have long to mull over it, though, because all of a sudden Raven leapt to her feet and sprang toward Ian. She dropped her comfort object as she did so, a framed 8x10 photo of Jackson and her together, whose glass joined the rest on the floor in a shower of slivers.

"Naughty serpent!" she screamed angrily, throwing punches at Ian, who easily dodged them. "Deceitful dragon whose fire burns the truth to smoldering ashes! All that remain are lies!"

"Raven!" I cried incredulously, managing to pull her away from a not-too-happy Ian with a little help from Connor. "It's Ian. Dragon, remember?"

"This is not my Dragon. This dragon is closer to a serpentan evil, silver serpent who wants to steal the ruby from the princess and use it to do her bidding." Her eyes narrowed.

"Do you have any idea what she's talking about?" Connor asked Ian as Connor and I half-dragged Raven to her couch. I was trying to placate her as I went along.

"No clue," Ian said. Perhaps I should go, considering our hostess isn't taking too kindly to my being here."

"Maybe that would be best. Raven, will you be all right?" I asked.

She nodded slightly, her gaze still fixed on Ian.

"Okay. Come on, Connor," I said, and the three of us left Raven's apartment.

"What are you going to do for the rest of the day, Ian?" I asked.

"Oh, I'll be around," he said, and after I blinked, he was gone.

"Damn. Some things never change."

"Okay, what just happened here?"

"Connor, it's a long story. One that you're entitled to hear, considering all that's happened. I'll tell you when we get back to the precinct."

"You promise?"

"Yeah, I promise. But before we head back to the precinct, I want to go by the hospital. I want to check on Mac and see if she's doing any better."

"Sounds good, Pez." We left the building and Connor drove us to the hospital.

***

"How is your mission coming, Damien?"

"Things are going according to plan, mistress. The only one who seems aware of the fact that I am not my predecessor is someone I was not previously aware existed. She goes by the name of Raven, though I am unaware of her surname. She seems close to Sara, and therefore most likely to the other, but she has clearly gone mad in recent days. Therefore they will not take her ravings of lunacy seriously."

"This is good news. Our plan will most certainly work. The Wielder's downfall is eminent. Continue this work."

"As you wish, mistress. I will continue, watch her every move, and then strike when all information has been discovered and relayed to you."

"Excellent. Get back to work."

"Yes, mistress."


	18. Chapter 18

Duplicity

By Divamercury

She's alive! Yes, indeed, it is I. I apologize for my insanely long absence, but just for you all, I have been a writing fool lately so I have not one but TWO chapters to post! Ain't it amazing? Anyway, the usual thank-yous: Pixie-Dust for being an awesome friend and great idea source, Spin for being so faithful and sweet, and every single blasted one of you that's been reviewing. Please don't stop, or else I might have to. So, on with the show. Read, review, and for your sake, enjoy! ;)

~DM

Chapter 18

Connor pulled into the hospital parking lot and we got out of the car. The wind had begun to blow relentlessly and we both shivered.

"Why'd you park so far away from the building, rookie?" I asked, hugging myself to try and keep warm.

"I didn't have a choice! Do you see any other spaces? This parking lot is smaller than the one at the precinct!"

"I don't think that's even possible. Come on, let's go before we turn into Popsicles." We entered the building through the automatic doors, causing everyone in close proximity to the door to shiver and glare at us when the wind followed us in.

"We're here to see Andreanna McPherson," I told the receptionist.

"Visiting hours start in a couple of minutes. Why don't you have a seat in the waiting room and we'll let you know, Ms"

"Detective Pezzini." 

"Right. Detective."

Connor and I sat in a far corner of the waiting area. "Well, considering we've got some time, what's this story you've been wanting to tell me about?"

I sighed. Now was as good a time as any to tell him my tale, even though I had been planning to tell him when we got back to the station. 

"Okay. You know about all the odd things that have been going on lately–the weird cases, the cryptic comments, my frequent space-outs, the rumors going around the precinct that I'm out of my mind, and even my boyfriend?"

"Ian doesn't seem weird, but yeah, I know what you mean."

"Oh, you have much to learn about Ian, grasshopper. Anyway, all that stuff is tied tothis," I said. I pulled my sleeve away from the swirling red stone of the Witchblade and let him see it for the first time, holding my hand out to him.

"Your bracelet is controlling your life?" Connor cocked an eyebrow as he took my hand, reminding me of myself.

I sighed impatiently. "Yes. My bracelet is controlling my life. And your life. And Mac, Raven, Ian, and Gabe's lives. I know you're important now in this scheme of things, although I'm not sure how yet."

"Damn, you're actually serious. You believe what you're saying," he said, scrutinizing the stone of the Witchblade.

"Yes, I am serious, damn it!" I shouted. All the eyes in the waiting room turned to us. Connor and I ignored them and I lowered my voice just to keep the discussion private. I continued, "And this isn't your everyday bracelet. I can't show you what it does, not here–maybe in Mac's room–anyway, it becomes a weapon. That's why they call me the Wielder. I was destined to wear it, being part of a bloodline or something running down through the ages. I realize it sounds absolutely crazy, but I swear it's the truth."

"If it was coming from anyone but you, Pez, I'm not sure I'd believe it."

"Hey. Don't worry. I'm surprised that you're taking it so well. It took me a long time to believe it myself and I'm the one wearing the damn thing," I remarked.

I continued updating Connor on the Witchblade situation until a nurse came up to us.

"Detectives? You can come and see Ms. McPherson now," she said. We stood up and followed the nurse to Mac's room.

"I'll come and get you when you need to leave," she said, and left us at the door. We paused a moment, then I reached forward and twisted the doorknob. Connor and I entered the room and sat on either side of Mac. 

"So what's this about a weapon?" Connor wanted to know.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" I asked.

"Not a chance. Would you let it go if you were in my shoes and your senior partner was telling you some insane story?"

"Okay, point taken. Don't say I didn't warn you." I concentrated on the Witchblade and it sprang to life, covering my right forearm in steel. The eye of the Blade opened and stared at Connor much as it had done to me when we first met at the Midtown Museum. Connor jumped back in his chair, rubbed his eyes, blinked, and then pinched himself.

"Satisfied that you're awake?" I asked with a smirk.

He nodded mutely.

"Good. It does more, you know. Do you want to see the rest?" He hadn't been exposed to the sword yet.

"Why not?" he said, throwing his hands in the air.

I concentrated again and let the sword extend.

"Holy shit!" he yelled. "So that's the thing that's been–"

"–causing weird wounds? You heard about that?"

"Everyone knows that story at our precinct. They couldn't figure it out, but it makes perfect sense. Retractable sword equals no murder weapon found. You've been killing people?"

"Only in the line of duty, rookie. Although being a homicide cop would be the perfect cover for being a killer. Wanna arrest me now?" I asked sarcastically.

He gave me a Look.

"Okay, okay," I said, backing down and making the Witchblade retract into its benign bracelet guise, which, being in as mischievous a mood as I was, glowed so obviously that Connor would be sure to see it. When he noticed, his jaw dropped.

"Connor, relax. Change your expression or your face'll get stuck like that. And trust me, you don't want to look into mirrors for the rest of your life and see that staring back at you."

He relaxed, thankfully. 

I noticed that the hospital staff had left Mac's necklace in place and I gingerly reached for the pendant whose amulet matched that of the Witchblade, and I showed it to Connor who gapedagain. 

"Dude! So who is or was she? I mean, you said that all the Wielders are technically the same person–and I'm not even going to pretend to understand THAT logic–so where does she fit into all of this?"

"Maybe Gabe'll lend you his copy of_ Quantum Physics for Dummies_," I said with a smirk. "Mac says that she is the high priestess of the Witchblade. I think the position comes from the fact that the Witchblade is steeped in ancient lore and mystical tales, so who better to look after it than a priestess? I don't exactly know what she does, though. You'd have to ask her that yourself." 

In the course of my explanation, an idea struck me. Remembering that time that Mac brought me out of a nightmare by connecting her necklace with the Witchblade, I fingered Mac's pendant, touching the identical stones to each other and watching as they bonded; I couldn't pull away. The room was filled with a flash of crimson light for a split second and then the connection was broken so forcibly that it threw me back in my chair. 

Connor blinked and stared at me. "What the hell–?" He stopped when I didn't respond, and I had a good reason for that. It was my turn to gape.

Mac had just blinked for the first time since she'd been put into this strange state.

"Mac? Mac! Can you hear me?" I asked, squeezing her hand. It took a few moments but she squeezed back, blinked a few more times, and muttered, "Did anyone get the license plate number of the truck that hit me?"

Connor and I couldn't stop grinning.

"Guess that's a no." She sat up very slowly. "How is everyone? Raven? Ian?" She swallowed. "Gabe?"

"Everyone's fineexcept maybe Raven. We're afraid she's gone off the deep end. And Ian was acting a little weird this morning, but Gabe's doing fine. Not that you care."

Mac sighed and leaned back against her pillows. "Please, Sara," she said. "I just woke upI don't think I need this now."

"Well, you're going to get it anyway. I can't believe that the two of you–"

"–Were tearing each other's heads off behind closed doors," she said tiredly. "We just weren't compatible. He always thought I was trying to change him, which he hated, and I hated the way he lived like a slob, among other things. Mutual resentment. It finally boiled over with an argument after you came to visit–you didn't have anything to do with it or anything–and we decided that it would be better to just call it all off. I had already started packing up the few things I had over there, so it wasn't a huge deal. We're going to be fine, Sara. We still care about you and we'll always be here for you. And I don't think that there will be any lasting ill will between Gabe and me. At least, I hope not."

I sighed. 

"Yeah, I know you don't like it, but–"

Mac was interrupted by the nurse's sudden arrival.

"Oh, my God! Ms. McPherson, you'reyou're awake! I need to get the doctor! And you detectives need to leave. Your time is up." She shooed us out the door, letting only a feeble wave be Mac's farewell.

"This is truly amazing. I wouldn't have expected her to make such a rapid recovery," the doctor said, scanning through Mac's chart.

"So you don't think that there's going to be any lasting damage?" I asked.

"All the signs point to no. I want to keep her here for just a little while longer, a couple of hours maybe, but I don't think that there will be any after-effects."

"Whew." I sighed, relieved that Mac was going to be okay.

"Good news," Connor said. "Thanks, doc."

"Not a problem. No doubt that she'll call you after she gets released."

I gave the doctor my card. "Give this to her. My work number is on it. I don't think she knows it by heart."

"I'll do that."

"Thanks, doctor." Connor and I left the hospital, heading back to the precinct because our lunch hour was up.

"More paperwork to look forward to, I gather?" I asked as Connor pulled out of the parking lot.

"Yep. Fun stuff, that."

"Right. Sure." I stared out the window as we drove towards the station, and I became aware of the familiar sensation that suggested that I was being watched. It felt like a pair of eyes was boring into my shoulder, which wasn't anything new, but the eyes weren't friendly and that made it feel different. I whirled and looked behind us but I didn't see anything, not that I had expected to. All I knew was that it definitely wasn't Ian watching me.

***

"Status report?"

"The Wielder and her partner made a stop by the hospital."

"Ah, to visit her little friend. The priestessAndreanna, I believe. She has some kind of unseemly masculine nickname but it escapes me at the moment."

"Mac," he supplied.

"Oh, yes. Mac." I grimaced. "Anything else to report, Damien?"

"No, mistress. Would it be wise for me to move to phase 2?"

"Why, do you feel that the situation has gotten that far?"

"We know more information than we did before and the Wielder is going back to the precinct, a place where she can very easily be isolated and would be unable to counter."

"Very well. Do you believe you can behave accordingly in a police station? And what information have you gathered?"

"I am certain, mistress. We now know the names of all her friends, and their problems. Gabriel Bowman, the young entrepreneur, is becoming depressed because of his break-up with Andreanna McPherson, who is currently in a coma and of little use to the Wielder now. Also, this mysterious Raven person is clearly quite mad, and I know why now: the loss of someone very dear to her. In short, all of her friends are completely useless at this point. When we're finished with her, she'll be alone, close to helpless, and vulnerable." I could hear the wicked smile in his voice.

"Excellent. You've been doing highly successful research, Damien. What of this Raven?"

"She seems to be connected with your father, as was Jackson Miller, her loved one I mentioned."

"Oh, right. The former head of the Speakers. What of him?"

"Your incompetent henchman killed him a few days ago, stupidly mistaking him for my predecessor. His death threw Raven into her madness."

"I know I've heard that name somewhere beforebut there aren't any files on her anywhere in what my father left mewell, if this is enough ammunition for you to use against the Wielder–"

"–Oh, this isn't all I'm going to use. Remember whose face I bear. Anything derogatory I say or do will be a million times worse behind this certain façade."

I laughed. "You're doing well, Damien. Better than I expected, in fact. Be sure to shake her up enough."

"As you wish, mistress. I will begin setting our plans in motion now."

"Very good. I don't want to hear of any failure on your part, Damien."

"You have little to worry about. I severely doubt that anything will hinder this plan."

"Perfect," I purred.

***

"Hey rookie?" I asked over the piles of paperwork on my desk, moving a few in order to see the clock. 4:10.

"Hmm?" He made a distracted sound.

"Have you noticed anything weird about Laredo lately?" 

He stopped what he was doing and gave me his full attention. 

"Now that you mention it, I have. It seems that he's been acting really nervous lately."

"Yes. Always looking over his shoulder, like he's afraid someone's out to get him or something."

"I noticed that too. Maybe he's worried that the serial killer is too much for us, that he's going to get killed."

"Or maybe there's something he's hiding"

"Whoa. Conspiracy theory, Pez?"

"Something like that," I said, lost in thought.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door of our office. Connor, heaving a sigh, dropped his pen and went to get it, knowing full well that I wasn't moving. 

"Hey! Ian, what are you doing here?"

I looked up, surprised to see him darkening my doorway. 

"I was in the area," he replied.

"Nice to see you, babe, but why are you here?"

"I need to talk to you." He looked at Connor disdainfully. "Preferably without your little sidekick."

"Ian!" I said.

"That's cool. I'lljust go get some coffee, then," he said, noticeably hurt, running a hand through his sandy brown hair. He left and closed the door behind him. Ian stepped in front of it and leaned against it.

"Jeez, Ian, little harsh there. I thought you two were friends."

"Another display of your ignorance, Sara."

I arched an eyebrow and stood up. "Excuse me? What is with you today, Ian? You've been acting really weird and to be completely honest, you're pissing me off."

"Let's just say that my eyes have been opened and I'm finally seeing things as they really are."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"That I don't think being around you is worth it anymore."

Whoa.

I just stared at him dumbfounded. 

"Surely you don't blame me. You're practically a magnet for suffering, death, and destruction. Who'll be next?" He stepped away from the door and started circling me. "First there was Irons, then Jackson, and now Mac and Raven areindisposed. Gabriel isn't doing too well, either. Tell me you don't see that."

"Damn it, Ian, of course I see it. Then Connor and Vicki too, I expect? You're saying that everyone's just going to up and die on me, huh, is that it?" I said, trying to keep my eyes on him as he circled and not doing a great job.

"That would be what I'm implying, along with the fact that I don't want to be next." He closed his eyes, shaking his head and smirking. "Sometimes I just can't believe you, Sara. It's amazing how naïve you can be. You think your life is going to be normal." He suddenly came at me, pushing me against a wall and pinning me there with his hands. I was surprised to find that I didn't instinctively fight him off. 

"Well, I've got news for you, Sara. It never will be. Do you honestly think that your friends would be in this mess if they hadn't met you? You and the Witchblade?" he wanted to know. "They'd all be off living happy lives if you'd never stumbled into their existences. Mac and Gabriel could have hit it off. And more importantly, Jackson would still be alive for Raven. She wouldn't be like she is, reduced to something less than sane."

I couldn't say anything. Everything he was saying was 100% true. 

He released me and looked almost sadalmost. There was a spark of something in his eyes that I didn't even want to try and identify. 

"Guess that's food for thought, huh, Sara?" He opened the door to the office and stepped out, smirking evilly. "Oh, and don't bother looking for me at home. I won't be there." Then he left, and all I could do was stand there. I couldn't believe the intensity of the verbal assault he had just unleashed. I had never before considered the fact that he had a downright mean bone in his body, but I had been wrong not to. 

At that moment, something just snapped. Maybe it was the Witchblade, or perhaps something else, but I ran out of the office, determined not to let him get away with this. I nearly collided with Connor on his way back from the coffee machine but didn't slow down in my pursuit even when he called my name.

I burst out of the front doors of the precinct and made a beeline for the alley that he usually parked his car in when he came to see me. I looked high and low, scouring the entire alley until the Witchblade flared up on my wrist, warning me of danger. I drew my gun and whirled around in one fluid move, coming face to face with Ian, who was holding a man against one wall of the alley and had a gun pointed at the middle of the man's forehead. The man was short and seemed to only be about 25 years old. 

Ian grinned at me.

"Oh, Sara, come to join in the fun?" he asked.

Dear God, what's happened to him?' I thought. Aloud I said, "Ian, let him go. You know this isn't right. And if you think I won't hunt your ass down if you do it, you're wrong."

"No, you're wrong, Sara. You don't have it in you to do it. It doesn't matter what you say, since you always put up a tough front. But I can see it in your eyes." He smiled wider. "And if you're about to say, "You don't want to do this," I can go ahead and tell you that indeed I do!" 

Time nearly stopped as Ian's finger tightened on the trigger. I screamed and the sound of a gunshot cracked through the air. Still smiling, Ian disappeared and I dashed to the man. I didn't bother checking his pulse; I knew he was dead and the look of fear and shock that was frozen on his face shook me to the core. Taking a deep breath, I went back to the door of the precinct, where a group of cops had massed after hearing the shot. They looked at me questioningly.

"Someone's been shot in the alley. Come on, move it!" I shouted at the congregated cops, all of whom jumped and ran. One ran back into the building, presumably to alert the other detectives, and for the second time in the span of only a few minutes, the Witchblade swirled on my wrist. Instinctively I dove into another alley, watching as a bullet from a sniper rifle hit the very spot where I had been standing a split second ago. 

"Pez! This way!" Danny appeared out of nothing and pointed me toward a niche hidden well by a group of large trashcans and stacks of tied newspapers, out of sight from the roof. I sprinted for it and practically dove in, sitting on the ground and hugging my knees to my chest as a few other shots rained around. I knew who was firing them. 

Danny sat down next to me, a feat that I didn't take the time to try and understand the physics of.

"Danny, I am so glad to see you. I am so scared," I murmured, trying not to disclose my location.

"I can tell. All this stuff is really freaking you out, huh?"

"No," I said, still managing to hang onto my sarcasm. "Not even a little bit. Come on, Danny. There's no one I can even look at the same way anymoreI can't trust anybody."

"Wait, come on, you're telling me you don't trust Ian–tall, dark, and studly? You don't trust ME–even taller, not quite as dark, and way studlier? Connor, Raven, Mac, no one?"

I smiled faintly. "Especially not Ian. He's the one shooting at me!"

"WHAT!"

"Don't ask. I don't have the energy to relay the whole thing to you, since you obviously haven't been paying attention. God! Some of the things he just said to meI can't think about them. And now on top of this I've got a serial killer after me who's hell-bent on splattering my internal organs all over a wall somewhere, Danny, not to mention that he killed one of my good friends. I can't go home. I can't stay here. I have nowhere to run to and no one to ask for help. Except you." I sighed. "At least I've still got you." I gave him a sideways glance. "And you're not taller than Ian."

Danny smiled faintly but continued. "Sara, you can trust your friends. Mac, Raven, Ciara, Connor. The Associates. They're all with you. You know where to find them. And I'll stick with you."

Thinking I heard footsteps approaching but unsure if they were really there, I looked around wildly, my hair flying everywhere.

"Pez, you've got to calm down. This isn't healthy," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder that I couldn't feel but pretended to.

"Oh, and you think I can fix that?" I snapped, fixing him with a glare that would have killed him if he hadn't been already dead. "I've got a fucking serial killer after me, Danny, not to mention my own assassin-trained boyfriend! What the hell am I supposed to do about that?"

"That wasn't what I meant. I mean you. All this paranoia. Pez, I know you've been through the motherload of stress. All that crap with the White Bulls and Speakers–and every other group that wants you to be a name on a tombstone–by any rights should have killed youif you were a normal woman. But you're not. You're the Wielder. You've made it this far, so what's a little more? You're the smartest person I knowand you have incredible instincts. Plus that little bracelet helps you big timeby letting you see me," he said with a grin. "But I still think you've got Ian pegged wrong. You've just got to sit down somewhere and decide what to do, because if you run headlong into this, as you are wont to do with nearly everything, you will end up splashed on a wall somewhere. Please, Pezjust call him."  
"Forget it! That's the last thing I want to do right now. He'll find me and all that'll be left of me will be a grease spot on the pavement."

"You can hold your own. You've got the Blade and a right hook, among other moves, on your side."

"The Blade won't work against him and he could take me down without blinking, as has been demonstrated numerous times. I just need to sort this out first."

"Then at least call someone. Mac, Ravensomeone."

"Fine. I'll call Mac. Even though she just got out of the hospital, maybe she can help somehow. Will that make you happy?"

"Ecstatic," he said dryly. "Gotta go. But I'll be watching out for you."

I fished my cell out of my pocket. "Thanks, Danny. Something tells me I'm gonna be needing you."

I crouched in the alley, clutching my phone like it was a live preserver and I was drowning. I dialed the number and waited with baited breath. 

Ring, ringcome on, please answer! Don't know anyone else to call if you're not around'

"Hello?" 

The voice was unfamiliar to me, definitely not who I was expecting.

"Umcould I speak to Mac, please?" I asked, speaking low.

"Surejust a second." The mystery person left and Mac came on the line.

"Hello?"

"Mac?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"It's Sara."

"Sara! That's crazy! I was just getting ready to call you."

"Isn't that interesting," I murmured.

"What's going on? Why are you talking so low?"

"I'm trying to stay hidden from someone."

"What are you talking about? What's going on? Do you need help? Want me to call someone to get you? Raven? Ian?"

"NO! No," I said.

"What? Why?"

"Who, how, where, when, which," I grumbled. "Don't call Ian, please. I can't see him right now."

"What's happened, Sara?"

"I just saw him kill someone. Someone he just came upon randomly in the street. He dragged him into an alley and just like that he shot the guy. Right in front of me. I can't"

"Are you sure that was him?" Mac asked soothingly.

"Of course I am! I live with the man, for God's sake! Then he vanishes, turns up on a roof around here, pulls out a sniper rifle, and tries to grease me right here. This all happens right after he breaks up with me by saying that being around me isn't worth the death, suffering, and destruction."

"Whoa. Okay, okay, just cool off. You're sure."

"Yes. And I'm terrified. My Guardian just killed someone. I'm sure it was him. It had to be him, but he seemeddifferent. Likewithout a conscience almost. I don't think he knows where you livehell, I don't even know where you live. I think I'll be safe with you for a while if you don't mind me intruding."

"Of course I don't mind. And it's not intruding, since I've vowed to come to your aid if ever you need it, and I'm thinking you definitely need some help right about now. I'll send Acacia to come and get you; the doctor said I shouldn't be operating heavy machinery for a little while." She laughed at this. "Where are you?"

"Hold on a second, who are you sending?"

"Acacia Laine. She's my roommate. We can trust hershe knows about the Witchblade. How couldn't she, considering she lives with me? It would be extremely difficult to hide it from her and I didn't see any point in trying. Anyway, I won't tell her who you are right off the bat, just that you're a friend. She'll know it when she finds you, though. Now where are you?"

"An alley off of Jason Street, near the precinct," I said, defeated. I wasn't sure I wanted to trust a stranger, considering Mac had had some shortcomings in the past where outsiders were concerned, buthey, I didn't have many options at this point.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Not really."

"I'll call the gang together."

"Don't call Raven. Ian could contact her too easily. And plus, she's trying to get over Jackson's death. She's gone a little loopy and she's scaring me right now."

"Oh. Right. I just hope his death didn't drive her mad."

"I hope not, too, although she was close enough to it when I was there last to make me believe it. Call Gabriel andcall Ciara. She could be of some help in a way that I haven't thought of yet. The more the merrier and all that. I'll be waiting for this Acacia person. How will I recognize her?"

"She's pretty hard to miss. She's tall, lanky, short red hair and blue eyes, and she's got several tattoos. She also wears a necklace that's a five-inch long sword."

"Oh. Well, that's a distinguishing feature. What tattoos?"

"A circlet of roses around her left wrist and bands of barbed wire around both her right biceps and her right ankle."

"Okay."

"I'll see you soon, Sara. I'll gather some people together and we'll think of something."

"Mac, are you sure I'll be safe there? What if someone can track me, like Raven? My brainwaves or whatever?"

"I've got my apartment sealed. I dabble a little in magick, and that was a nice little feature in my _Priestess's Handbook_."

"Nice to know those are still in print."

"Very funny, Sara. Don't worry, you'll be safe here with Acacia and me."

"Sure hope so. But if she's not here in fifteen I'm taking off."

"No, Sara, please–"

I hung up. Didn't know who could be listening. Good God, this tops even my usual mindset for paranoia! What is happening to me?'

***

Something was wrong. I could feel it, but I couldn't decipher what it was precisely. I couldn't detect Sara on my innate radar and I was getting worried. I called Connor in the car on my way home from my interviews, both of which were successful, but he told me that she'd left in a hurry half an hour ago after there was some kind of incident near the precinct. Evidently a man had been killed. So where was she now?

After wracking my brain to try and find Sara, I thought that one of our friends might know where she was. 

Guess I'll just go down the list,' I thought. My first thought was Raven. I wasn't sure how much I could get from her in her current state, butI still considered her my sister. She was worth a try. 

***

I had stayed in the niche Danny had pointed out to me for ten minutes after I called Mac and was beginning to get antsy. There hadn't been any shots lately and the Witchblade had finally stopped glowing, signaling that the danger was gone. I heard footsteps approaching me for the second time that day and was sure they were actually there this time. My fingers clenched convulsively around the end of my gun and I drew it from my holster.

"Sara? Sara Pezzini?" It was the unfamiliar voice again. 

I stood and held my gun down in front of me. "Who are you?" I shouted, maneuvering for a position that would allow me to see the person. I peered around the lip of the niche over the trashcans and saw a very tall, lanky girl with shockingly red hair cut in a boyish style standing around leaning on a broadsword and looking around the alley. 

"Sara?" she called again. A long silver chain hung around her neck and with the five-inch sword (which matched the one in her hand) hanging on it, it reached to her navel. Plus the tattoos. With those traits, I knew who it had to be. Acacia Laine.

"Stay where you are and don't make any quick movements. Keep your hands where I can see them." I slipped out of my niche and entered the alley.

She laid her sword on the ground and casually held up her arms, bent at the elbows, and turned to look at me. "I'm no threat, you knowand I don't know why I should be accosted like this if I'm just here to do you a favor. Police habit, I guess."

I stepped out from behind the ledge, keeping my gun leveled at her. "I have no way of knowing that, considering you've got a huge sword in your hand, and I'll tell you why you're being accosted. Because I'm a cop who's paranoid as hell right now and can't afford to hesitate when it comes to shooting people without finding out why they're following me. Now what's your name?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"Acacia Laine. Mac sent me to find youthat is, if you're Sara Pezzini."

I lowered my gun. There weren't many people knew about Mac, or at least that nickname. Plus, the girl fit the description. I sighed and holstered my weapon.

"Yeah, that's me," I said, shrugging.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked. 

I gave her a Look because she used the same phrase that Mac had. "I'm not even going to answer that. My methods work and I stick to them. I've been through this kind of shit too many times and I think I've learned how to stay alive."

"Well, that's nice to know. I'll be sure to keep that in mind." She held out her hand and I looked at it for a moment and then shook it. She smiled. 

"Well, guess I need to take you to Mac's place. Come on," she said, leading me to her red BMW convertible. We got in and drove off.

"Nice car," I commented. "How'd you"

"Afford it?" she asked.

"Yeah" I trailed off again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude or anything."

"It's fine. I'm an artist. I've been painting since I was fifteen and that's how I made my money."

"But I thought that art was only worth a lot after the artist died."

"Not always. Plus most of the pieces I've sold were big pieces. I've done a little bit of experimenting with sculpture and glass-blowing, too."

"Wow. That's amazing," I replied. 

"Yeah, well. A girl's gotta make a living," Acacia said, smiling and shooting me a glance. "So how did you and Mac become friends?"

"Through Ciara Darkheart. She was getting married–she's Ciara Barnes now–and Mac was a fill-in bridesmaid because another girl didn't show. I was the maid of honor. After that we kept in touch and" I rubbed my temples to try and stave off the headache that was threatening to erupt across my forehead. We stopped at a red light and Acacia looked at me. 

"So, was that it?" she asked, then did a double take and took my hand. "Is thatis that what I think it is?" she asked. 

"The Witchblade? Yeah," I replied nonchalantly.

The light turned green but Acacia paid no attention; she was still staring at my wrist. Horns from irate drivers sounded around us. 

"Go!" I said. "You can look at this later!" 

Acacia slammed down on the accelerator and we shot forward. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "But I have got to get a closer look at that."

"Whatever you want. Where are we headed?" I asked her.

"Mac's place, of course. Why?" 

"Could you swing by my place? I need to get a couple of things if I'm going to be staying with you guys for a while."

Acacia glanced at me. "You sure that's the best idea? I mean, won't that be the first place that nut will have gone to look for you?"

"His name is Ian, and even though you're making a good point, I don't have much of a choice. If we go now we'll be gone before he shows up."

"And what if he's already there?" she asked.

I swallowed hard and looked her in the eye. 

"Then I'll deal with it."

***

Naturally the time I needed to get home the most was when I got stuck in traffic. Taking advantage of the downtime, I dialed Raven's number, not knowing what to expect. Jackson's death had really shaken her and she was unstable to say the very least.

"Hello?" she answered. That in itself was a sign something wasn't right, considering Raven's favorite way to answer the phone was with a chipper "Yo!"

"Raven? It's Ian."

"Dragon." She sounded relieved.

"Hi, Birdie. Listen, I need your help. Connor said that Sara left the precinct half an hour ago but I called the apartment and she's not home yet. Can you sense where she is? She's dropped off my radar."

Raven seemed to think for a moment, but her answer was less than forthcoming.

"The flame has left its dragon...it has gone into hiding, waiting for the red rose with blue tears to come. The rose shall escort the flame to safety, leaving it in the care of its maiden. There the flame shall be safe from the black knightsuch a dark knight who wears the face of a friend."

"What? Raven, where is Sara? What are you playing at?" I asked, getting exasperated.

"Naughty little snake! Play with flames and you will get burned...it will coil and consume you, feeding upon your life," she mused. "But the flame will not burn those who respect it and earn its respect in turn." She laughed. "Worry not, my dragon...your flame shall return to you in time. For now Lord Jason gives the flame sanctuary until such time as the rose can come...goodbye, Dragon." 

"Wait, Raven! What are you–"She hung up abruptly, leaving me hurt and staring at the phone, the dial tone drowning out all other sounds.

"–Trying to say," I finished, turning off my cell phone and throwing it into the passenger seat. Then after a moment of thought, I picked it up again and placed a second call.


	19. Chapter 19

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Here's part 2 of my amazing double-feature post. Or something. So if you forgot to review for the last chapter, or want to do just one for both, then prepare yourselves! Enjoy!  
  
~DM

Chapter 19

Acacia pulled up to my apartment—already I had begun thinking of it as just mine again—and turned off the engine.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked me.

"Yes." I glanced at the Witchblade. No signs of danger. 

"Okay," she sighed. 

"Don't worry, I'll be right back." I opened my door, about to step out, when Acacia grabbed my arm.

"What if you're not?" she wanted to know.

"Call the precinct. Mac has the number, I think. I gave it to the doctor at the hospital. Ask for Detective Connor."

"Connor. Gotcha."

I got out of the car and slipped into my building. Keeping an eye on the Witchblade but drawing my gun anyway, I crept up the stairs and unlocked the door of my apartment. I climbed the stairs and made a quick sweep of the apartment. No one home. 

Wasting no more time, I ran to my closet and grabbed my duffel bag. I packed some clothes, toiletries, and other necessary items and made one last check around the apartment for something else I might need. Satisfied with my take, I picked up my duffel and ran down the stairs two at a time. I locked the door behind me and ran for the door.

Acacia seemed quite relieved to see me back so soon. I signaled to her to pop the trunk and she complied. I threw the duffel inside, slammed the trunk shut, and got in the car.

"Ready? Got everything you need?"

"I think so. If not, no big deal. I just needed clothes above everything else."

"Okay. Let's get out of hereI have this really creepy feeling that we're being watched." Taking the hint, Acacia floored it and we sped off toward Mac's place.

***

Watching the Wielder flee for her life was a quite satisfactory experience. I smirked as I watched her leave, obviously accompanied by someone who was driving, but I was unable to see whom. I was actually a little surprised at how well my little bit of acting had convinced her that I was my predecessor and that he was through with her. It was disappointing that I failed in my mini-assassination attempts but it was probably just as well; my mistress would not have been pleased if the Wielder had died before they had another confrontation, let alone whatever else that she had planned. I didn't bother to follow the car but instead dropped down from the roof of the Wielder's building and hid on her fire escape in order to observe my predecessor's reaction to the fact that she was missing.

***

Acacia turned into an alley that led up to a tall brownstone building hidden far from anything I recognized in the city and parked the car. 

"We're here," she said unnecessarily. 

"Thanks so much for everything, Acacia. You've been a real lifesaver. Hey, do you mind if I take a look at that sword of yours?" I asked as we got out of her car. 

"Sure," she said, opening the door to the backseat and sliding the weapon out. She handed it to me gently and I appraised it. The blade was longer than I had originally thought and it was truly a work of art. A steel rose in full bloom was affixed to the blade where it met the hilt, and a thorny vine came from the rose and circled about a quarter of the length of the blade. 

"Wow," I said, feeling the ivory handle. "This is beautiful."

"I made it myself, except for the rose. It was an artifact I found in a tiny museum in Rome that was going out of business. The sword is great for blocking bullets. Just like a little toy of yours, eh?" I smiled as I continued appraising the sword and gasped.

There was a small stone like the one in the Witchblade embedded in the center of the rose.

"Thought you'd notice that. I believe it's the same kind of stone as the one in the Witchblade. The two are probably linked, in case you were wondering."

"That would make sense." I handed it back to Acacia, who slipped it in the scabbard hanging from her waist, which was interesting in itself. It was like a normal scabbard except for the section cut out to accommodate the vine and rose. 

"This is truly amazing. Ian would love it." I froze and winced at what I had just said. Acacia obviously noticed but didn't mention it.

"It may be amazing, but it's a bitch to clean. Blood really loves these little nooks and crannies," she said, gesturing to the thorns. "Pretty annoying, but it's worth it in the end."

"Might have been a little more information than I needed, there, Acacia, but that's okay," I said, getting my duffel out of the trunk. Acacia locked her car with her remote and smiled.

"Sorry bout that," she said. "Well, we'd better go upstairs before someone else tries to kill you. Mac would be very put out." She led the way in, but I stopped in my tracks.

"_Put out?_" I said. "I should hope that she would be more than put out," I said. 

Acacia winked. "Yeah, well, you'll learn soon enough not to take me at face value. Could cause problems. Now come on."

She led me around to the front of the building and opened the mahogany door with her key. 

"Man, is this a really ritzy place or something?" I asked.

"Not really. Why?"

"Mahogany door?" I said, pointing.

"Oh, that." She smiled sheepishly. "It's Mac's building, and she likes reddish wood," she said, opening it and shooing me inside.

"Well, in that case," I said with a grin, letting her lead me into the townhouse she shared with Mac.

When we arrived, Mac opened the door for us. "Sara! You're here! I was getting worried."

"Crazy woman here made me take her to her place," Acacia remarked, gesturing to my duffel. 

"Well, I'm just glad you made it. So he wasn't there?"

"No. I don't know where he was but I know he wasn't in the apartment. I just packed a few things and came right out."

"But what would have happened if he had been there?" Acacia asked.

"I would have dealt with it," I snapped. "Like I said I would."

"Calm down, you two," Mac said. "Have a seat, Sara."

"Thanks." I took a look around the first floor, which was amazing. It was decorated in almost a Victorian style, furnished in dark mahogany and cherry woods, and the walls were painted a deep emerald green. There was also a large carving of the amulet of the Witchblade hanging on the wall above the fireplace. 

"Whoa," I said, pointing. "What's that?"

"You like it? I made it," Acacia said. 

"It's great. Amazing. How did you know about it?" I asked.

"Mac's got some great photos, but this one I actually made from a dream. I sketched it and then used the sketch to carve it. It was one of my first piecesand when Mac saw it she demanded to know how I made it."

"I was amazed that I had found another of the Ring without even trying. We became friends, I told her about the Witchblade and the dreams she's had since childhood, and we started our search for you. Then when I met you through Ciara, well, it made everything a lot easier."

"You mean you've been looking for me for a long time? And what the hell is the Ring?"

"Yes. It was our mission in life to find you and now that we have, we, as well as those close to us, are bound to aid and protect you. And the Ring is the circle of people that surround you. Acacia, me, Ian, Raven, Ciara, Connor, and others we don't know about yet."

I buried my head in my hands and sighed. "Why is everything about keeping me safe? If you all had never met me, you would have been better off."

Mac sat down beside me, putting an arm around me. "Sara, it's destiny. We had no choice in the matter, and even if we had, I would still have gone out of my way to find you if I had known who you were and what you stood for. You are a good person and I feel lucky to know you and to be able to call you my friend. While you're here, nothing will happen. This place is sealed and no kind of extra-sensory detection powers will be able to find you here."

"Okay," said Acacia, "I feel a little out of the loop. I know all about this history stuff and everything, but who's the person after her again?"

"Sara?" Mac nudged me.

I sighed. "My boyfriend. Ian Nottingham," I said.

"The Guardian," Mac supplied.

Acacia looked dumbstruck. "You mean to tell me that the Guardian has turned on the Wielder? Damn. Never thought I'd hear that something like that had happened."

"Yeah, me neither," I said.

"Sara, we'll get to the bottom of this. Don't worry. Hey, Acacia, it's getting kind of late and I'm hungry. Surely you and Sara are, too. Could you call for some pizza?"

"Sure, if she'll explain in detail what's going on," Acacia said.

"No problem."

***

Darkness steadily fell and I finally made it out of the traffic nightmare and arrived back at the apartment. As I had expected, it was empty, but as I looked around, some of Sara's things were gone. The bathroom was practically void of her personal toiletries and some of the drawers were open with items of clothing missing, suggesting she had left in a hurry. But if she was going somewhere, why hadn't she told me or at least left some kind of message?

Seeing as I still had no clue as to Sara's whereabouts and I was entering a mild state of panic, I called Gabriel and after he was unable to help me, tried Connor a second time, but he couldn't shed light on the situation any more than Gabriel had. Completely throwing out Raven as a source of information, the last person I could think of to call was Mac. I flipped through the phone book to find the number next to her name, but strangely no address next to it. I dialed and waited for an answer.

***

While we were in the middle of our pizza feast and I was in the middle of telling the story of my day, the phone rang. We exchanged glances and Acacia rose, answering the phone.

"Hello?"

Pause.

"And who should I say is calling?" she asked, slightly scornfully. 

Pause.

"Just a minute." She put the phone on hold and said, "Mac, there's a call for you."

"Who is it?" she asked, taking another bite of pizza.

"Ian Nottingham."

Mac nearly choked. "What?! Surely he hasn't figured out that Sara's here?"

"He didn't say. You'd better talk to him."

"Don't worry, Sara," Mac said to me. "I'll take care of this. Just relax; you've gotten really pale." She walked over to the phone and took it off of hold.

***

"Hello?"

"Mac? It's Ian."

"Oh, hello, Ian. How are you?"

"Not too good, actually. Listen, I need your help. I've been in job interviews all day and I called the precinct to talk to Sara. Apparently she left around 4:30 because there was some kind of incident near there and I haven't heard a single thing from her since then. I'm getting really worried. Do you know where she might be? Or have you seen her?"

"Calm down, Ian. Have you called Gabriel or Connor?"

"Both of them. And Raven, too. No one could give me an answer except Raven, but it was some kind of strange riddle-type thing that was too cryptic for even me to decipher. I'm really worried, Mac. I'm afraid something terrible has happened to her and she can't get in touch with me."

"Ian, I wouldn't worry about Sara. She's a tough girl. But I haven't seen or heard from her today, either. Maybe you should try her friend Vicki from work, or perhaps Ciara. Maybe she went to catch up with her."

"I don't know, Mac, but the part that struck me as being really strange was that it seems that she's been here between the time she left the precinct and the time I got home, because some of her clothes and toiletries are missing. No one could have broken in, either, since I fixed the locks."

"That's odd. I can't imagine where she'd go after packing things and not tell you about it. I'm so sorry I can't help, Ian. I know you're worried. But just out of curiosity, what did Raven say to you in her cryptic message?"

"Well, to start with, she kept calling me Dragon, her pet name for me. She said that the flame had left its dragon and was waiting for the rose to take it to the maiden who would keep it safe from the dark knight. Can you make any sense of that?"

"No clue off the top of my head."

"Well, sorry to bother you, Mac, but I just thought you might know something."

"That's fine, Ian. If I hear anything from her, or if I find anything that will help you, I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Mac."

"Bye, Ian."

***

"Well?" Acacia asked.

"Sara, you are sure that it was Ian that you saw today?" Mac wanted to know.

"Yes! I'm positive. It was himat least, I think so."

"Was something different?"

"Yeahhe had absolutely no control today. He said such terrible things and then just killed that manI could see it in his eyesit almost looked like he had completely gone off the deep end."

"Well, he sounded completely rational on the phone. He said he's been in interviews all day and got stuck in traffic but called the precinct to talk to you and that Connor told him there had been some kind of incident and you left around 4:30."

"Was that it?" I asked.

"No, he said that Raven told him some riddle. Sara, I think Raven knows what's going on."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "How do you figure that?"

"She told Ian that the flame had left its dragon and was waiting for the rose to take it to the maiden where it would be safe. If you think about it, it was talking about all of us. You're the flame and Ian's the dragon. Acacia's the rose and I'm the maiden. It makes sense. I think she knows who you're with but not where you are because she can't detect you."

"Wait a second," Acacia said. "Completely changing the subject here. Sara, do you know where Ian was supposed to be interviewing this afternoon?"

"Supposedly he was talking to some people at Stewart Enterprises, one of Vorschlag's main competitors. Why?"

"I have an idea," she said, and ran to the phone, flipping through the phone book. She found the number that she wanted and placed a call. 

"Mac, what does Ian look like?"

"He's tall, has pretty long dark hair, hazel eyes, and has a beard. What are you doing, Acacia?" Mac wanted to know.

"I'm going to talk to the people at Stewart and see if they met with a Mr. Ian Nottingham this morning."

After being on the phone for about 15 minutes, Acacia came back and told us what she had found.

"They did have a meeting with Ian today. He was there from 4:00-4:45."

"But if that's true, then there's no way he could have been at the precinct. He came to my office at 4:10 and harangued me for close to 15 minutes. I spent some time trying to keep him from killing the poor guy, which didn't work, and I went into hiding in the alley at 4:30. I was there waiting for Acacia until about 4:40, and Stewart Enterprises is across town. There's no way he could have been there and at the precinct."

"I gave them the description of him that you told me and they said that that was the man they had seen."

I was dazed. "But how could he have been in two places at the same time?"

"Simple. He couldn't. There has to be an explanation for this. You're convinced that you saw Ian and the people at Stewart seem to have seen him, too. So how do you explain it?"

"Sounds like Ian has a brother or something," Acacia said.

"He doesn't. Technically he's an only child, although I have no idea about his parentage. It's been rumored that his father was Kenneth Irons but I'm not sure that that has ever been proven. But the reason he's only technically an only child is because he and Raven grew up together and consider each other to be siblings even though genetics says otherwise."

"Well, then someone must be making some kind of hologram or something, because I can't think of any other way that this could have gone down," Acacia quipped.

"Mine sure wasn't a hologram. He shoved me into a wall, shot some random guy in an alley, and almost shot me. As far as I know, holograms can't do stuff like that."

"Never know. All these technological advances." 

"Ha ha, Acacia. So what's our next plan of action?"

"Do you happen to have a photo of Ian, Sara?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, fishing one out of my wallet. They were hard to come by but I had one.

"Do you mind if I borrow this? I'm going down to Stewart to see if this was the man interviewing down there today." 

"Not a bad idea. What should I do?" I asked.

"Not a damn thing. You and Mac stay here, hold down the fort." She left the room.

"What about Ciara?" I asked Mac.

"She should be on her way over soon. I called her right after I hung up with you."

Acacia reentered the room sporting a long leather duster that reached to her knees over her crimson short-sleeved mock turtleneck sweater and black jeans. Her sword necklace was still in place, and she tucked my photo of Ian into her pocket.

"This shouldn't take too long. I'll be back in a few," she said.

"Good luck, Caci," Mac said, and with a grin she left.

"Well, now that it's just us, what should we talk about?" I said.

"You need to call Ian."

"Mac" I said, standing up and pacing.

"You know it's true. Just let him know that you're all right. Don't give him any specifics. If you call your home line and leave a message, he won't be able to trace it or anything. The least you can do is give him some peace of mind."

"Peace of mind! You're talking about a man that just tried to kill me! Are you out of your skull?"

"Sara, whether you believe it or not, this could all very well be a strangeextremely bizarre misunderstanding." Her eyes took on a steely glint. "Just call him."

I sighed. "Fine," I said. I picked up the phone and dialed my own number. Sooner or later he'd hear the message.

***

Ring. Ring.

"Pezzini, go!"

Beep.

"Ian, it's me. Listen, I don't know what was going on with you today, but I've decided to take off for a while and I'm not planning on coming back any time soon. At least, not until I can figure out what the hell is going on. Called the Stewart people and they said that you were there today, but I've got someone checking on that. So the $64 question is, how were you there and breaking up with me at the same time? Exactly, you couldn't have been at both places at once, so I am truly confused.

"I really don't want to give up on you, Ianbut I don't see what choice I have at this point. I thought we had something but apparently you don't think so for some reason, even though you're the one who's always spouting off about destiny and past lifetimes. You're the last person I would expect something like this from, but some of the things you said" 

Sound of soft sobbing.

"And the look in your eyesI've never seen you like that before. It was almost like you were a completely different person, someone I didn't—and frankly didn't want to—know. But, if this is all some kind of misunderstanding, I just want to let you know that I'm all right, and I will be fine for a while. Don't try to trace this call or find me, because the people I'm with are under instructions to look out for you and they might shoot first and ask questions later. Just a fair warning."

Pause.

"Goodbye, Ian."

Click.

My hand was still floating over the handset, where it had been ever since the beginning of the phone call. I had come close to answering but when she started off on her strange—to say the least—message, I couldn't interrupt. Although I couldn't fathom what was going on, at least I knew that my beloved was safe. But what had really shaken me was the fact that it had sounded like she had been crying. What had I done? I could think of nothing that would warrant a reaction of this magnitudeI couldn't remember ever seeing her cry, except during the Conchobar ordeal. I couldn't remember any conversation even barely alluding to me wanting to separate from her. I moved away from the phone and sat down on the sofa, head in my hands. Was this some kind of punishment for my past transgressions? Because having the one thing I cherished ripped away from me was the worst punishment anyone could devise.

I was busy ruminating on the subject when I heard a knock on the window. I looked up and was astonished to see Raven sitting out there on the fire escape. I let her in and she smiled at me. 

"Hello, Dragon," she said cheerfully. Then her manner suddenly turned grave. "We need to talk."

***

I hung up the phone, wiping my eyes surreptitiously in the hopes that Mac wouldn't see, but naturally she did and handed me a tissue. I accepted gratefully, even though I was furious at myself for reacting the way I had, and I started to speak but Mac beat me to it.

"Sara, hiding your emotions is not a healthy thing. You hide a lot of things and I find it amazing that you haven't gone into self-destruct mode after adding all the stress you're constantly under as well as the Witchblade to the mix. You've got to start letting yourself go."

"But look what happens, Mac! Whenever someone gets close to me and I let down my defenses, ready to let go and trust them, something awful happens and they either die or go crazy and try to kill me. Now would that promote your desire for relationships?"

"I guess when you put it that way"

"Exactly." 

"But at least I got you to show some emotion."

I glared at her, then grinned. "Small price to pay."

Night was falling over the city by the time Acacia returned to Mac's apartment. And right behind her was Ciara.

"Hey, girl! Long time, no see," she said, hugging me as was her habit. Only because it was Ciara did I humor her. 

"Hey, yourself. You've been doing really well. Got three books of yours at home."

"You've read them all? What did you think?" she asked eagerly.

"They were excellent. The best I've read in quite some time, actually. How are you and Luke doing?"

"Great. Really great. The books have certainly helped us. Luke left Trappetto's and got a job as a bartender at Maxell's."

"Wow. That's a classy place."

"Oh, yeah. He's making good money and so am I," she said.

"And you look it," I said, commenting on her ensemble. She was wearing a beautiful black wool suit under a black mink coat, which Acacia took from her and hung up in the little closet by the door with her own leather duster. "You look great."

"Thanks. So, to get right down to business, I met Acacia on the way here and she told me about what's been going on with you lately and to be completely honest, I'm not sure I believe it."

"Everyone, come on into the living room. We'll be more comfortable in here," Mac said. We followed her into the maple-paneled room and took seats on the green velvet cushions.

"Why do you say that, Ciara?" Mac asked. "Pray continue."

"Well, I'm aware that I don't know Ian as well as you and Sara do, Mac, but I don't believe for a second that he would do something like that." She turned to me, locking her eyes to mine. "Don't forget, I met him at my wedding, and he gave me away. I watched him like a hawk the entire time, and he was doing the same to just one person. He loves you, Sara. More than anything in this world. Don't ever doubt that."

"He's given me quite a reason to doubt it lately."

"Sara," Ciara said sternly. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it might be a misunderstanding, although how that's possible is beyond me," I said. 

"Knowing all the shit that the Witchblade puts us through, nothing surprises me anymore," Acacia said. 

***

"What about, Birdie?" I asked. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, fine. For a while there I was pretty screwed up, but I'm better now."

"Then why were you still acting weird?"

"Wasn't quite over it yet. I'll probably keep up the act for a whilepay my friend Adair a visit."

I shuddered. "Why put yourself through that willingly?"

"Well, I've got a good reason, which will definitely interest you."

"Pray tell."

"I sense another."

"Another what?"

"Another you. But not. A sleeper."

I stared at her, eyes wide. "Surely you jest."

"Do I look like I'm jesting?" Raven asked, pointing to her face. "This is my sincerity face here."

"Right. So"

"So, this should end your problem."

"No, this makes it worse."

"How is that even possible?"

"Thanks, Birdie."

"Sorry, just trying to make a point."

"There's no way she'll trust me after what he's done or believe that a sleeper is awake, considering I never told her about the program. The only way she'll believe it is if she sees it with her own eyes, meaning he and I have to be at the same place at the same time."

"And the problem is?"

"That getting that situation to become a reality is going to be a lot harder than it sounds."

"Well, you I'll leave you in charge of the brooding and the ruminating, two things you are so good at. I'm going to go freak out Snake Lady." 

"All right," I said desolately. "More power to you."

"See you later, Dragon." She gave me a concerned look. "I'll be back," she said, then slipped through the window and down the fire escape in perhaps two seconds.

***

"Well, I've got to be going, Sara," Ciara said, glancing at her watch. "It's later than I thought."

"Thanks for coming," I said. "It's been forever since I saw you last and I'm glad I got to."

"Seriously. This will all work out, Sara, but you call me if you need anything," she said, pressing a card with her number on it into my hand.

"Sure."

She left the room, grabbed her coat, and left the townhouse. 

"What time is it anyway," I asked, yawning.

"10:25," Mac said. "You need to turn in."

"What are you talking about?"

"You need your rest, Sara. You've been running everywhere today."

"Come with me, Sara," Acacia said, grabbing my duffel bag. "I'll show you your room."

"Thanks. Night, Mac."

"Good night, Sara. See you in the morning."

I followed Acacia up the steps to the second floor of the townhouse and into one of several bedrooms that were on this floor.

"We've had this one ready for you for some timejust in case," she said. "It's one of the only rooms in this place that isn't green."

She was right. The room they had chosen for me was paneled halfway up each wall with cherry wood and the top half was painted a deep crimson, like the stone of the Witchblade when silent. The room was furnished completely in cherry and the bed was the focal point of the room, hung with crimson silk drapery and fitted out with linen of the same color. 

"This is beautiful," I said, putting my duffel down beside the little nightstand, deciding to unpack into the large dresser later.

"We're on either side of you if you need anything. Mac's room is down the hall to the left and mine's to the right. Sorry to say that there isn't much of a view, at least in my opinion, but I think you'll be pretty comfortable here. This door—" she gestured, "—leads to your private little bathroom, and I think that's everything you need to know. See you in the morning."

"Night, Acacia. Thanks again."

"No problem," she yawned, then left, grinning, and closed the door behind her.

"Well, here you are, Sara," I said to myself. "Man, I'm wiped. Better changed and then crash."

I flipped on the clock radio on the nightstand but turned it down some so it wouldn't disturb Mac or Acacia. I caught the end of one song and listened as another one I wasn't familiar with came on in its place. I vaguely recognized the voice as being that of LeAnn Rimes, but beyond that I knew nothing. As the song progressed, I found myself making absent-minded comments to the appropriate lyrics.

__

It's Independence Day I'm free

And it's a strange place to be

I'm gonna break these chains

Unleash the changes in me

How fitting,' I thought as I unpacked my bag. I changed out of my typical jeans and shirt into a pair of loose gray slacks and a matching tank top to sleep in. As I listened to the song, I was amazed at how well it described a situation similar to the one I was in.

__

I see an endless road

I feel the restless wind

I've lost the fear inside

Cause I've got no choice

But to live or die

"Well, that's the truth. I won't let this take over my life. I'm going to find out what's going on and I'll fight my way out of it." 

__

Suddenly you're in this fight alone

Steppin' out into the great unknown

And the night's the hardest time

When the doubts run through your mind

Cause suddenly you find yourself alone

Suddenly you find yourself

"Not completely alone. But I still feel isolated from all of them. God, I want this to be over. It's going to drive me absolutely crazy. And if I think about it anymore then I am going to begin to doubt my convictions."

__

In an empty room

With a suitcase on the floor

It'll be daylight soon

I'm gonna wage my private war

"How true," I mused. "I'm here by myself with my "suitcase" right here with me, it's close to daylight, and I'm fighting a war that practically no one knows about"

__

Who's watchin' over me?

Must be a guardian angel

I glanced toward the corner and spotted Danny hanging around. "Thought you might be here."

"Hey, that was my cue, after all. Had to show up for a second. Love the digs," he said, glancing around. "Mac's done a beautiful job."

"I agree."

"Well, just wanted to drop in and see if you made it out of that alley. Seems you did, only to end up in another one." He moved toward the window and I followed him over, glancing out. Acacia hadn't done it justice. You couldn't see the lights of the city but the stars were brighter than I had ever seen them before and the scene took my breath away. Until I started thinking about him again, and it felt like an icy cold hand had wrapped around my heart in a vice grip. I turned away from the window.

"Get some sleep, Pez," he said. "You'll feel better after you relax."

__

I just need time to breathe

And give my life

The best of me

"You're right, Danny. As always. I've just got to take some time and think this through."

__

Suddenly you're in this fight alone

Steppin' out into the great unknown

And the night's the hardest time

When the doubts run through your mind

Cause suddenly you find yourself alone

Suddenly you're in this fight

Steppin' out and then

***

__

Suddenly you're in this fight alone

Steppin' out into the great unknown

And the night's the hardest time

When the doubts run through your mind

Cause suddenly you find yourself alone

I glared at the radio. I had turned it on to try and break through the silence and the tension I was feeling, to escape from my thoughts for just a moment, but as soon as I turned it on I came in contact with a song that described my situation perfectly.

Except for Raven, I am alone. Everyone else is probably with Sara. Not that that's bad. They can help to protect her from the other. God, I feel so useless! I'm her Guardian and here I sit, on this couch in the darkness, doing absolutely nothing but thinking. This is pathetic.' I reburied my head in my hands.

__

Suddenly I found myself

I looked up again, a smile forming on my face. What am I thinking? There's got to be something I can do, even if she doesn't know about it yet. I'm a warrior, damn it! I don't sit still and let problems pass me by. I go out and face them, banners flapping in the breeze! Or at least I do now that I'm free from him.' I shook the thoughts of my former master from my head. I can't let anything happen to her, and I sure as hell am not going to give her up without a fight!' 

I fished my cell phone out of my pocket and flipped it open to dial a number. I had work to do.


	20. Chapter 20

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Well, "rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," as Mark Twain once said. I am fully aware that I haven't posted since December, but lately I've had a lot of problems. School got crazy, I was involved in the school production of Les Miserables in March which ate all of my time, and my parents are getting divorced, which in essence killed my muse untilnow. This post was originally supposed to be a teaser but I realized it's long enough to be a chapter in its own right, soyay! Hope it's halfway decent; give me a break because of my screwed-up life. ;) Well, enough with the blabbing and on with the story! REVIEW or I can't guarantee your safety from a vindictive muse! Love you all! ;)

~DM

Chapter 20

After my conversation with Ian and my departure from Sara's apartment, I slipped over to the Vorschlag Industries building to do a little investigatingor snooping. I got in without any trouble. Gina Ramirez the receptionist was gone, there was no one else around in the lobby area, and I knew from my years spent with dear old Kenny that Adair was probably still mired in multiple meetings that she inherited along with the company, allowing me some time to look around. I slid into her office undetected, since most of the staff was gone even past the receptionist's desk, and, closing the door behind me, headed straight for her desk. The thought crossed my mind of this all being a setup or something, but I quickly shook it off. Adair seemed pretty smart, but she had never laid eyes on me and the information on me in the files was vague to say the least. Therefore she could have no idea that I was even a threat.

With all these files, there's got to be something here that has to do with what she's planning.' I rooted around in the papers scattered across the desk, finally coming up with a file labeled in Dr. Immo's typical physician scrawl. Opening it, I found the records of one Damien Malvado, as well as a photo of a rather familiar face.

So that's what she's named the sleeper,' I thought, reading on. Well, you know what Kenny used to say: "To name is to know, to know is to control." Wonder where this new freak show is now.'

I perused the file at a leisurely pace, sitting at Adair's desk in an extraordinarily comfortable chair, legs crossed and propped up on the fine–what was it? Cherry?–desk and I continued to muse. Aha, footnotesShe apparently created this guy for her own personal pleasures as well as to cause problems between Sara and Ian from what this suggests–ewwwwwww–and the last part already worked. So, what to doSnake Lady has a crush on Ian so she made a duplicate, she wants Sara dead and seems to be in league with Bill Crane, that serial killer that Sara was talking about at work–who, by the way, is the one who killed JacksonDamn it! This bitch is going to pay.'

As I was exacting horrible methods of revenge in my head, most of which involved my katana and lots of blood and pain, I heard Snake Lady's footsteps coming down the hall and had to suppress a sound of glee. 

Time to be bad-ass, Birdie,' I told myself as the door opened and I didn't take my eyes off the file. Wait, since when do I ever stop?"

Her footsteps stopped short and I glanced up.

"How did you get in here? And who the hell are you?" Adair wanted to know, obviously rattled. She must have thought that this, of all places, was safe.

"Oh, I was wondering when you'd show up," I remarked offhandedly, still flipping through the file. "I'm here on behalf of a good friend of mine. Ian Nottingham." I fixed her with one of my patented glares. "I'm sure you two have met."

She smirked. "Indeed. So you're here to try to get me to call off my little schemewhich by the way is working perfectly."

"Yeah, well, lady, I really wouldn't mess around with these people if I were you. Just a bit of friendly advice from someone who's been in the trenches."

"Oh? Why is my plan so dangerous, exactly?"

"Because all of us are quite capable of kicking your scrawny, almost nonexistent ass into next month," I said, concentrating on the front of her blouse and pulling her to the desk by the collar mentally. "Case in pointalmost. And we aren't necessarily restricted to the physical realm, as has been clearly demonstrated," I said, grinning evilly.

"What kind of freak are you?" she asked, eyes wide. I could practically smell her fear. The tough veneer she put up didn't mean a damn thing.

"One of a group of "freaks," all of which you have wronged in one way or another." I paused for a second, thinking about the implications. "You know, I'd really hate to be you right now. You've got a seriously pissed Wielder and Guardian on your hands, not to mention their entourage, of which I am a member. And, again unluckily for you, I'm pissed off for my own reasons."

"A seriously pissed but, sadly, separated Wielder and Guardian," she said emphatically. "It's documented that they only have a fraction of their effectiveness when apart. I don't fear them."

I looked her straight in the eye again. This character was certifiable, or extremely ignorantor both. "Then you're a fool. Or you're lying. Either way, they won't be separate forever. Not if I have anything to do with it."

"Oh, really?" she asked.

"Yes. Really. The tide will turn, whether you want to believe it or not, and it will do so especially rapidly after adding my information on a new friend of yours into the mix. Who I could already sense, by the way."

"Well, well. Finally a worthy adversary," she said. "You've done your homework, it seems. But can't I know the name of my newfound nemesis?"

"You probably already doyou're just too thick to realize it, in which case I'm not going to make figuring it out any easier for you."

I turned away from Adair and approached the window, preparing to leave and wondering if she was going to take that opportunity to pull something. A tickle in the back of my brain signaled that she had. The image of a heavy bronze bookend appeared in my mind. She must have thought it would actually do something. After she released it I made it come to a screeching halt and float in midair three inches from my head. I then turned around and faced her with my most menacing face in place.

"You really have no idea of the magnitude of the forces you're screwing around with, do you?" I asked rhetorically, heading closer to her and sending the bookend on its merry way through the pane glass window behind me with a flick of my wrist. "Well, you will soon." I whirled and ran straight for the broken pane of glass, smashing through with my shoulder and breaking the rest mentally, and leapt from the room, arms spread, preparing for a swan dive. I hovered three stories down, waiting for a head to peer over the edge. Sure enough, Adair rushed to the window and was shocked to see me floating there.

"Surprise!" I shouted, waving.

"What the–" her face paled.

"Don't even think about asking me about the mechanics of this, Avilla. There simply is no way I could break it down into words small enough for you to comprehend. Just let me part by saying that the shit is about to hit the fan and you are in for one long, costly war. You will pay for your wrongsand they're going to be more expensive than that window." That being said, I flew away, leaving a slack-jawed Adair staring after me.

***

"Argh!" I exclaimed. I had thought that I would be safe from the annoying rays of sunlight while at Mac's place, but I was wrong; they were as vigilant as ever in their pursuit of my eyes. Sighing at the interruption of my slumber, I pulled a dark blue sleeveless ribbed crop-top and a pair of jeans out of my duffel bag. I got dressed as I tried to ignore and stifle feelings of nausea that were no doubt caused by the grotesque battle dream reminiscent of an intensified Braveheart that the sunlight brought me out of. Somehow heads and limbs flying off and blood staining everything wasn't the best thing for my stomach.

Once I finished, I left my room and descended the stairs in my normal fashion until I heard lowered voices downstairs. I halted on the staircase and strained to hear what was going on.

"Do you think it was a good idea to call him?" Acacia was asking.

"Sure. The more the merrier. We needed an archer anyway," Mac remarked.

An archer? What the hell?

"Yeah, well, how many armies can say they have medieval snipers?" She grinned. "So you don't think I was wrong to get him involved? I mean, he is family and I don't want anyone, especially him, to get hurt because of all this"

"It's fine," Mac assured her.

"Are you sure that Sara won't be mad? Maybe I shouldn't have called him after all." 

I moved to a position in which I could see them finally and arrived in time to see Acacia stand up and start pacing around the room anxiously, wringing her hands as she went.

"Relax, Caci," Mac said gently. "She'll be up soon and he'll be here in a couple of minutes, so don't worry about it. They'll meet up soon enough."

Who are they talking about?' I asked myself. Family? Archer?' Confused as hell, I went the rest of the way down the steps and entered the living room, making both Mac and Acacia jump involuntarily. Pretending that I hadn't heard anything, I walked in and said, "Good morning."

"Oh, hey Sara," Acacia said, calming down.

"Morning," Mac replied. They both seemed pretty rattled.

"Whoa, you guys okay? Did I startle you or something?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just a little," Acacia said

"Come with us to the kitchen," Mac said. "I'll get you some coffee and something to eat."

Food? Definitely no. My stomach lurched. "Actually, I'd just like some coffee. I'm not really all that hungry. My stomach was bothering me some this morning. I had a pretty gruesome dream last night and it made me feel sick."

"Then you need tea, not coffee. I think I've got some peppermint tea left; that should help settle it." I grimaced. "And don't worry, there is caffeine in tea, so you'll still be getting your fix," Mac said with a wink. "Yeah, I know how you are."

Not having the energy to argue, I let them take me into the kitchen and make some tea for the three of us. 

The kettle was whistling and I was sitting at the counter watching Mac make the tea when a vision suddenly struck me. It was Ian, standing alone in an empty room, and then as I watched he suddenly split in two. The second Ian looked completely evil and had a tattoo of three 6's on his right forearm, visible because both Ians had their sleeves rolled up. There could have been more, but I was thrown back to reality and I gasped.

"Sara?" Acacia asked. "You okay?"

"Vision," I gasped.

"What did you see?" Mac asked, bringing the tea over.

I grabbed my mug. "Mmm, this stuff is pretty good," I remarked when I took a sip. 

"Don't change the subject," Mac chastised. "What's up?'

"I'll tell you in a little bit. Let my eyes focus first," I joked.

"Are you feeling any better?" Acacia wanted to know.

"Surprisingly, yeah," I replied.

"Sure you don't want anything to eat?" Mac asked.

"No. I'm fine, but thanks."

The three of us were finishing up our tea and I was preparing to tell my hostesses about my vision when there was a knock at the front door. I froze while Acacia ran to see who was there. 

"Oh, it's just you."

"Well, I certainly feel loved now," an unfamiliar male voice said.

"Ha ha, you're so funny. I was just afraid it was someone else, that's all," we heard her say from the kitchen. "Come on in. It's so good to see you. I really missed you."

"Missed you too, sis. So where is your mysterious houseguest?" the man asked, and we heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. The Witchblade flared and I hid it behind my back as Acacia entered the room with a man taller than her, about 6'3". He was quite handsome, with long, straight blonde hair pulled back at the top of his head, allowing the rest to fall down past his shoulders. His eyes seemed to have a healthy amount of both blue and green in them, his jaw was square and he was grinning like a fool. The mystery man had a tan leather backpack slung over one shoulder and was also carrying two packages: a long, thin one under one arm and a shorter one sticking out of the surprisingly deep backpack.

"Mac, Sara, this is my brother Leo," Acacia said. "Leo, this is my roommate Andreanna McPherson, known only as Mac to anyone who wishes to live, and my good friend Sara Pezzini, our, as you called her, "mysterious houseguest."

"Leo Laine," Mac said. "Cool name. Dig the alliteration."

"I'm rather fond of it myself," he said, smirking again as he set his packages down, the long one by the door and the backpack in one of the bar chairs.

"Nice to meet you, Leo," I said, holding out a hand, which he shook. He didn't release it immediately, though, and since I had extended my right hand unknowingly, I was thrown into my second vision of the morning.

__

Leo running through a forest as a child, rapidly shooting arrows.

An older Leo standing on a stone wall, acting as a sniper.

Leo practicing with crossbows over the years.

Perfectly aimed arrows flying into chests.

"So, you're an archer, huh?" I asked.

"Damn. You catch on fast."

"Well, I have some help," I shrugged.

He looked down at my arm. "Whoa! That'sthat's really it, then?" he asked, raising my hand up to his eye level. "That's the famous Witchblade." He looked over at his sister. "You didn't do it justice, sis. It's incredible. As is its Wielder." He kissed my hand.

"Your brother is charming, Acacia," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, only to you. Apparently he esteems you highly. He treats the rest of us like slime."

"I do hold you in high esteem, Sara. From what I've gathered from my sister about Witchblade lore, it takes a woman of great physical and emotional stamina to successfully master the secrets and benefits of the Blade. And I don't treat everyone like slime, Caci. Just you."

"Oh, thanks," she groaned.

"Does everyone I ever come in contact with automatically know about the Witchblade?" I asked.

"Well, I'd never heard of it until Caci started having weird dreams and I heard tell of Mac, whom I've never had the pleasure of meeting until now," he said, shaking her hand and then turning back to me. "So, I believe that you are in some trouble?"

"You could say that," I said. "Where should I start?"

"At the beginning is preferable."

I unfurled the whole story of the serial killer, my friends and their trials and tribulations, and now the whole situation with Ian and his strange behavior. 

"Whoa," was all he could say. "Yeah, I'd have to admit that you're in a bit of a spot."

"That's why she's here. She'll be safe here, so no one knows about this place."

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. All eyes fell on Acacia.

"You were saying, sis?" Leo inquired.


	21. Chapter 21

Duplicity

By Divamercury

Okay, I still have loyal fans, I see, and I can't thank you enough for waking me from my stupor. I'm in college now and all kinds of stuff has been going on that has pulled me away from this fandom. I had this bit written and I want to give you all a fix because I realize my cliffhanger was cruel. This also has some humor in it, I hope. ;) Eternal thanks to Angel452 for shaking me awake, as well as to any other reviewer who took the time to tell me they wanted more of this story. This might be the last post for a little while (hopefully less time than previously) but I want to watch all my Witchblade tapes and reread all my work before continuing. So, enjoy this! Thanks so much!

DM

Chapter 21

"Holy shit! Who could that be?" Acacia said.

"Relax, it's probably just some delivery person," I said. "They should just leave the package and go."

Naturally, the person knocked again and no one listened to me. Acacia's sword materialized in her hand—I had no idea where it was—and Leo's bow was at the ready. Both stepped in front of Sara, who rolled her eyes. I was jut hoping they weren't overreacting. I went to see who was at the door.

Unfortunately, there was reason to worry. Of course it wasn't a delivery person. It was Raven.

I stood there in the doorway, frozen in shock. 'Why didn't I get a damned peephole?'

"What's the matter, Mac, unhappy to see me?" she quipped.

"Um, I just didn't expect you, that's all. Why didn't you call?" I asked, reluctant to let her in. I still wasn't sure of her mental state.

Raven just swept past me and kept going…straight into the kitchen. When I caught up with her she said, "Because I knew Sara was here. If I called, you could have moved her or hidden her away somewhere. Hey, Sara," she said with a casual wave, not phased in the least by the menacing siblings before her. "Who's the blonde?" she asked, sitting on one of the bar stools, looking at all of us. She all of a sudden burst out laughing.

"What?" I wanted to know.

Between bursts of laughter, she managed to get out, "You guys—look—so funny." She calmed down and continued, "Sorry, but you're looking at me like I'm some kind of baddie. Snake Lady is the enemy, right?"

Acacia and Leo exchanged looks and mouthed, "Snake Lady?"

"Adair," Raven clarified.

"Oh," I said.

"Hey, do you have any waffles?" Raven wanted to know. I haven't had breakfast.

"Sorry. I've got Pop-Tarts in the pantry, though," I said, and she immediately scurried off to grab one.

"Oooooh! The Brown Sugar Cinnamon kind!"

The four of us exchanged confused looks.

After Raven returned in a few minutes with her prize, I asked, "Um, Raven, what are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check on Sara." She examined the looks on our faces, and then something must have clicked. "Don't worry, I'm not insane anymore…well, not as much," she said with a wicked grin. "I was just going through a difficult time and my brain didn't want to handle it all. But I'm fine, I swear." I'm sure we didn't look at all convinced, so she continued, "If I came here hellbent on doing something destructive, your townhouse would be rubble by now."

That reassured us…basically.

"How did you know I was here?" Sara asked, finally speaking.

Raven chuckled. "Mac, did you really think that your little barrier was going to stop me? Well, it did slow me down a little, but after narrowing it down a little, it was clear that she would come here. Listen, Sara, Ian's worried about you."

"I don't see why," Sara said.

Raven buried her face in her hands. "Oh, dear God, I forgot that he didn't tell you. He probably thought that you'd freak out. Well, you probably will. Mac, do you have a chair with restraints on it? I really don't want Sara to kill the messenger."

"Sorry, I'm fresh out," I said. "Maybe if we make her promise to be good, then she'll honor it."

"Well, how 'bout it, Sara?" Raven asked.

"How bad is it?" Sara wanted to know.

"Pretty bad."

"I'll try my best to behave. Spill."

"Okay…Sara, there's more than one Ian."

"WHAT?" I exclaimed.

"Calm down and let me finish. Irons cloned him once, but it backfired and he was kept asleep until the day that, heaven forbid, he would be needed. I bet that Irons's pet doctor, Dr. Immo, figured out how to twist his personality around to make him more stable."

"Stable! He shot a guy right in front of me! Hell, he tried to shoot me!"

"That's more stable than he was before. Before…when he had just completed his training, he went on a rampage just because he could. Ian had to stop him…and the sleeper nearly killed him. But he was captured and kept asleep until now. Adair probably ordered him awake to confuse and probably kill you, Sara. So I've come to offer my services."

"How?" Mac asked. "What can you do?"

"At this point, I'm the only one who can tell the two of them apart."


End file.
